Through the Flames
by xavionite
Summary: 1984. Sequel to The Hard Road. As John Gage and Roy DeSoto move on from the upheaval of the previous year, they rely on a friendship forged in flame to bring them through life's fiery trials. Rated T for possible future content. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is the sequel to _The Hard Road. _If you haven't read that yet, I suggest you read it first in order to avoid confusion. Other than my humor story, _Johnny Gage and the Great Big Book of Fanfiction, _all my Emergency stories are interrelated and follow a specific timeline, though most can be read out of order without a problem. If you want to read them in chronological order, here is the proper sequence: _The Gift _(1976), _Christmas Eve Gift _(1976), _Legends and Light_**** (1979), _Stirring the Ashes of Memory _(1982), _The Hard Road _(1983), _Through the Flames _(1984). I will try to post one chapter a week, but I will also be working on my Hawaii Five-0 story, _Invasion, _at the same time, so that timeline might be stretched out a bit. **

**Those who have read my work already know that I am a language geek and I frequently pepper my writing with other languages in order to add some cultural flavor. Mostly, this involves Choctaw, as I imagine Johnny a member of the Choctaw tribe. Usually, I include a glossary at the beginning of the chapter, but this time I'm placing it at the end because it contains spoilers. I work hard to keep my language use accurate, frequently seeking help from friends who are fluent (even after four years of study, I consider myself a beginner), but there could be mistakes I have missed. Here are some pronunciation notes on the Choctaw language to help those who are interested (I doubt I'm the only language geek here). 1) The digraphs 'HL' and 'LH' represent a sound that is not found in English. It's sort of like a soft 'th' sound (as in 'thought') quickly followed by the 'L' sound. It's written 'HL' before a consonant and 'LH' before a vowel. 2) Because Choctaw does not have a sound like English 'V,' the letter V is used to represent the short U sound as in 'bus' or 'sub.' 3) You will notice occasional underlined vowels. The underline represents nasalization of the vowel. **

**Finally, many thanks are due to my beta readers, Piscean6724 and katbybee! Your encouragement over the years has meant so much to me, and your feedback has truly helped me grow as a writer. You are awesome!**

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Nita finished folding D.J. DeSoto's shirt and placed it on top of the stack of clothes in the laundry basket. Tired as she was, she had insisted on helping Joanne instead of just sitting around and relaxing while her friend tackled her everyday chores. Joanne had protested at first, but finally brought Nita a basket of clean clothes, which she emptied out on the coffee table. "You sit there," she said, pointing at the sofa. "You can fold these and put them back in the basket for the kids to take upstairs when they get home. When you're done, prop your feet up and rest. You look exhausted."

She was only about halfway through the small pile, but already she felt her strength flagging. She reached to rub at her aching back, then placed a hand on her abdomen. "Halito, vm vllosi," she crooned. "Hachi hullo li." She winced at a twinge of pain in her right side. Her head ached and a wave of dizziness washed over her. _Not again. _She closed her eyes briefly, trying to talk herself out of worrying. This was normal, right?

If she weren't expecting, she would swallow a couple of aspirin for the headache, but she didn't want to take the risk. Her obstetrician would recommend Tylenol, but Nita preferred to avoid medications altogether. She wasn't entirely convinced that over-reliance on aspirin hadn't contributed to the problems that culminated in her mother's death when her little brother Billy was born. No, a nice walk would do her more good than a pill. She picked up the stack of folded clothes and bent over to place them in the basket on the floor. When she straightened up, her vision greyed around the edges and suddenly the dull throb in her head intensified. She swallowed hard, fighting back nausea. Headaches always made her feel as if she were about to throw up. It didn't help that the babies seemed to be pushing up against her lungs, making it hard to catch her breath.

"Are you all right, Nita?"

Nita wasn't sure when Jo had moved to the family room and sat down beside her, but she welcomed her friend's supportive touch. She nodded. "Yes... I mean... I will be. I... I think I just need some fresh air."

Jo's hands caught hold of hers and lifted them up. "Nita, your hands... how long have they been swelling up like this?"

Nita looked down at her hands with a frown of distaste. Lately, her fingers resembled puffy little sausages. "Started a few days ago, I guess. My ankles are worse."

"This doesn't look right to me, Nita. I'm going to call Johnny."

Nita pulled her hands free. "No, Jo. Please don't. I'm fine. I just need to slow down. And I... I don't want to worry him while he's working."

Jo frowned at her. "You know exactly what he would say to that."

"Please, Jo." Nita drew in a breath and let it out slowly, trying to pull herself together. She really did want her husband there with her just now, but she also didn't want to appear weak or incapable of taking care of herself. "I think if I just sit down on the back porch for a bit, maybe have something to drink, I'll feel better. If I don't, then you can call Nashoba."

Jo's eyes narrowed, and she seemed about to say something else, but then her face softened and she relented. "I'll give you fifteen minutes," she said. "You sit down on the back patio and I'll bring you a drink of water, and if you aren't feeling better then, I'm calling Johnny."

Nita nodded her agreement. Joanne helped her up and walked her toward the back door. As she stepped across the threshold, another wave of dizziness hit, and Nita saw flashes of light that she knew weren't really there. She felt as if her knees were about to buckle under her. She squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed Joanne's arm to steady herself. "Jo."

"Nita... tell me what's wrong."

"I... I don't know. My head hurts and… and I'm dizzy." Nita swallowed hard. She opened her eyes, then blinked a couple of times. Fear wrapped like a cold hand around her heart, squeezing it till she felt she could hardly breathe. "Jo... I... I can't see."

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A figure moved between Roy and the window he'd been staring out for the last... well... he wasn't sure how long.

"Roy? You OK?"

"Oh... hi, Johnny." Roy shook his head to clear the cobwebs, then swiveled his chair so he could look at the stack of papers on his desk instead. He yawned and stretched. He liked his new job, but he would never like doing desk work, and he did have more of it than he used to. "I'm fine. Just looking through these applications. Ed Jarvis wants into the paramedic program, if you can believe it." He passed the application to Johnny, who was now leaning against the window sill. "What do you think of that?"

Johnny's eyes widened as he read the first page and he gave a scoffing laugh. "Jarvis shouldn't have any job that involves close interaction with other human beings. I'm surprised he's made it as long as he has in the fire department."

"I agree. But his aptitude scores are high, and he's got a decent record. Based on that, we have to recommend him for the program."

Johnny handed the folder back. "Listen, Roy. The whole reason they asked for our feedback on these applications is that we know a lot of these guys. You know as well as anyone that high test scores aren't enough to make someone a good paramedic. You've got to have the ability to interact with people in a positive way, especially in a crisis. Jarvis may be a smart guy, but he lacks that crucial skill. Heck, he makes Craig Brice look like a teddy bear. He'll breeze through training and then crash and burn the first day on the job. I don't know why he's even bothering to apply."

Roy sighed. He glanced at the clock and pushed the stack of papers away. "You're right. And I need a break — I worked through lunch. Want to go down to the cafeteria with me?"

"Sure. I haven't eaten yet either — let me grab my lunch from the fridge and then I'll go down with you." He crossed the room in a few long strides to the small refrigerator Roy had brought from home and pulled out his sack lunch and a can of soda. By the time he closed the fridge and turned toward the door, Roy was already there, balancing on his forearm crutches.

Before they could step out of the office, the phone on Johnny's desk rang. "Hang on a sec... I'd better get that." Johnny moved back to the desk and lifted the handset. "Hello?" A few seconds later, he dropped the phone and was moving at top speed past his friend. "Gotta go... ambulance... bringing Nita... ER..."

"Go, Johnny! I'm right behind you." After a couple months of intense physical therapy, Roy was quick on his crutches, but there was no outpacing the Galloping Greyhound when he had reason to move quickly, and Nita was all the reason he needed. Johnny and Nita had been childhood sweethearts but had lost track of each other until a couple of years ago. Once reunited, their old flame had quickly rekindled, and they had married last May. Nita was due to give birth to their twins sometime a little over a month from now. Roy was glad she'd come down from the ranch to spend the day with Joanne. The Gages' ranch hand, Tex, was out of town for a horse auction, and Johnny hadn't wanted her to be home alone.

Roy hurried down the hall to the elevator and pressed the down button. He guessed Johnny had taken the stairs — two at a time, no doubt. When the doors opened, Roy stepped in and punched the button for the first floor.

A minute later, he stepped out again into a busy Emergency Department. At the end of the long hall, he spotted Johnny, heading out into the ambulance bay, Dixie at his side. Roy moved in that direction. He knew that Joanne wouldn't be far behind the ambulance, and she would probably be upset. Jo had a good head on her shoulders and would not have called for an ambulance if there weren't a need for it. _Something really bad must have happened. _As the thought flitted through his mind, his forehead creased with concern.

Kel Brackett fell into step next to Roy and opened the door when they reached it. "After you, Roy." The low pitch of his voice and the shadow in his eyes told the former paramedic that Rampart's chief of Emergency was worried.

"What happened to Nita, Doc?"

Brackett sighed. "All I can tell you is what Carter said when he called it in. Elevated blood pressure, dizziness, edema in the hands and face, nausea, severe headache, and sudden onset blindness."

"Toxemia." Roy spit the word out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. He had seen the condition before.

"That's what it sounds like." Brackett took his place beside Dixie and watched the ambulance pull in.

Roy moved past Brackett to stand with his friend as the ambulance backed into the bay. He could see the tension in the tight set of Johnny's jaw and the way he clenched his fists. Dixie had an arm around him, and Roy got the feeling she was physically restraining him from leaping forward and trying to take matters into his own hands.

"She's strong, Junior," he said softly. "She'll get through this."

"Will she, Roy?" The words exploded out of Johnny. "Her mom died when Billy was born, you know."

Roy didn't take his friend's hostile tone personally. He'd been there himself — he understood. Supporting himself on one crutch, he rested a hand on Johnny's arm. "I know. I also know Nita has Brackett and Dixie ready to fight for her, and I figure that fact alone puts the odds in her favor."

The orderly opened the back of the ambulance and helped paramedic Matthew Carter pull the gurney out. Roy was surprised at how pale Nita looked, her dusky rose complexion faded to a sickly pallor. An IV line ran into her arm and an oxygen mask obscured her face. She looked as if she were asleep.

"Get her in Exam One!" Dixie ordered, stepping from Johnny's side to Nita's. Johnny pulled away from Roy to follow his wife's gurney into the hospital.

Just then, Jo came hurrying from the parking lot. She looked ghostly pale herself. Roy met her when she stepped up onto the curb and wrapped his arm around her. "Tell me what happened, honey."

"Oh Roy, it was terrible. And it all happened so fast!" Her words tumbled out breathlessly.

"Slow down, Jo." Roy instinctively grasped her wrist. Her pulse was racing. "Let's go sit in the nurse's lounge, get you something to drink. Then you can tell me everything."

Jo just nodded, and together they went inside.

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Johnny paced the hallway outside Exam One, glancing every so often at the door. He was pretty sure it had been at least an hour since Nita had been taken into the room and Dixie had turned to him and put her hand on his chest and told him in that no-nonsense tone of hers to wait here. The nerve! He'd been in that exam room hundreds of times over the years, maybe thousands. He knew how to stay out of the way! Nita needed him! He had half a mind to barge through the door in spite of Dixie. Before he could, though, it finally opened and the nurse stepped out.

Johnny glared at her. "Well?"

"C'mon, Johnny. Let me buy you a cup of coffee while we talk." She put an arm around him and tried to guide him in the direction of the nurse's lounge, but Johnny dug his heels in.

"I don't want coffee, Dix! I just want to know about my wife and children, and then I want to go in and sit with her!"

"She's sleeping now, Johnny."

Dixie's blue eyes locked with his, and he felt himself crumbling under her intense gaze. He wasn't sure how much longer his legs would hold him up. "Please, Dixie."

At last she relented. "All right. But come sit down while we talk. You don't look very steady at the moment." She guided him to a row of chairs just down the hall and nudged him into one, then sat next to him. "Johnny, Nita's blood pressure is dangerously high. It's a condition called toxemia."

He ducked his head and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I know what it is, Dix. Doc Brackett got her on a magnesium sulfate drip?"

"Yes, he did." Dixie gave his left hand a comforting squeeze. Johnny appreciated that she remembered his right hand didn't have much sensation. He'd worked hard to regain most of the function and strength since his injury about four months ago, but permanent nerve damage had left him with very little feeling in that hand. "Kel wants to admit her. As a precaution, we'll start her off in ICU, but assuming we get her blood pressure under control, we'll move her to obstetrics in a day or two. Right now, we are focused on lowering her blood pressure and giving those babies a little more time to develop. But I'm sure you know what they say — the surest cure for toxemia is delivery. Which means if the magnesium doesn't have the effect we hope it will, Nita will need to deliver soon."

Johnny opened his mouth, but Dixie put up a hand to stop him from interrupting. "Those are Gage babies, and that means they're fighters like their daddy. Nita's far enough along that they should be all right with a little help for their lungs. I've seen younger babies survive and thrive. Now, before you go in to be with her, you need to know — the toxemia has affected her vision. She's blind, Johnny. It's temporary, and Kel explained that to her, but she was pretty shook up, so I'm not sure how much she took in of what he said. When she wakes up, she will need your reassurance. Once we get her blood pressure down to a safer level, we don't want stress pushing it up again."

Johnny's hands trembled as he absorbed the news. As a paramedic, he had responded to calls for women with toxemia several times. Not all of them had survived. He gave Dixie a curt nod. "Can I go to her now?"

"Sure. I'll go with you." They both stood and Dixie slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "ICU should have Nita's bed ready by now, and she'll be be moved upstairs soon. I'll send Roy up to find you once you've had a chance to get her settled."

"Thanks, Dix." They reached the door to the exam room just as Kel Brackett was stepping out.

After a pointed look from Dixie, the doctor squeezed Johnny's arm. "She's quite a woman, Johnny. We'll do everything we can to pull her and the babies through this."

Johnny nodded, then steadied himself with a deep breath before stepping inside. The sight of his wife, looking so frail with all the monitors and the IV connected to her, just about broke his heart. He strode across the room, anxious to be close to her.

He gently stroked her raven-black hair with his left hand, then twined his fingers with hers as he bent to kiss her brow. "Nita," he whispered. "Atek, chi hullo li."

She blinked her eyes open. "Nashoba? Chi pisa hinla li kiyo. Katimma ish anta?" She clutched at his hand and the cardiac monitor beeped, registering her too-rapid heartbeat.

"Shh, aiukli. Cholusa. Okmocholi. Okhlili mvt mashelichi. Chi nishkin nihi vt falamachi." He'd lost his fluency in Choctaw years ago at boarding school, and though he had been speaking it more since he was reunited with Nita, he still felt as if his tongue frequently stumbled over the words. But he knew she would take comfort in hearing their native language, so he did his best. He pulled up a chair to sit beside her, all the while keeping his hand on hers while he murmured to her.

"Taloa, Nashoba," she whispered. "Vmi taloa."

"Sing for me," she'd said. He knew exactly the song she wanted, too. She'd sung it over him a couple of years ago when he was gravely ill and near death. Most of his memories of those days were hazy, but he clearly remembered hearing her voice, and he was convinced she had kept him from crossing the threshold by singing those words to him. His voice was rough and lacked her rich tone, but he hoped the old hymn might comfort her and give her strength. He squeezed her hand, cleared his throat, and began to sing.

_Chitokaka ma! chi haksobish a_

_Et welit, chin tahpahanla li ka_

_Auet is sa haklo cha, nana ka_

_Chim asihilhha li ka et vma_

_Klaist a auet is svm ihissashke;_

_Keyukmvno, svlla he banoshke._

**_—_**

_Tvli holisso, micha nanasi_

_Yakni 'lvppa asha, yohmi kvno_

_Is svmakbano, chi ahni la wa;_

_Klaist ak bano, ho sa bahannvshke_

_Klaist a auet is svm ihissvshke;_

_Keyukmvno, svlla he banoshke.*_

As he sang, Nita's heart rate gradually slowed and she drifted into a more peaceful sleep. Johnny was only vaguely aware of Dixie moving around and checking the monitors until she came up behind him as the last haunting strains of the hymn faded away.

The nurse lay a soft hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. A ghost of a smile flitted across Johnny's face as he clasped her hand and looked up at the woman who had become something of a big sister to him over the years. "The babies' heartbeats sound good," she said, "and Nita's doing better. Keep it up, Tiger. The orderly will be here soon to take her upstairs."

He nodded, then turned back to his wife. Nita had relaxed now, her hand loosening its grip on his. He moved his hand to her abdomen and leaned over to talk to his unborn children. "Halito vm vllosi. Chiki vt hachi hullo. Be strong, little ones."

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Roy sat with Joanne on the couch in the nurse's lounge, his arms around her as she rested her head in his lap. He stroked her hair and gently massaged her neck. He knew she must have worked hard to keep her emotions in check when Nita needed her to be strong and when she was driving to the hospital, but she had broken down crying once he got her in here. At the moment, though, she was just quiet. She sniffled and shuddered slightly under his hand, and he reached over to grab a tissue from a box on the side table. "Here you go, Jo."

"Thank you, honey," she said, her voice just barely wavering. "Sorry I lost it like that. I just... wasn't sure what to do, and... well... I was afraid she might die right there in my arms." She sat up and dabbed at her face with the tissue, then reached across him for another one.

Roy stroked a finger down her cheek. "Jo, honey, you don't need to apologize... I know it must have been terrifying, but you did everything exactly right. Nita and the babies are in good hands right now, thanks to you."

She blew her nose and mustered a wan smile. "Thank you, Roy. I needed to hear that."

"He's right you know." They both looked up to see Dixie framed in the doorway. "Carter told me you did all the right things before they arrived. It could have been much worse if you hadn't been with her."

"How's Nita doin', Dix?" Roy asked.

"She's hanging in there. We're sending her up to ICU right now, but hopefully we'll be able to move her to obstetrics within a day or two. Johnny's up there with her, and I promised him I'd send you up."

Joanne patted Roy on the thigh. "Just let me wash my face," she said. "Then I'll be ready." She gave a rueful smile. "Thank you, Dixie."

While his wife freshened up, Roy took a moment to gather his emotions. The last time he'd been in ICU, he'd been a patient there himself. His right pants leg, specially tailored to end just below the knee, was a stark reminder of those traumatic days. His life had changed irrevocably in an instant. He had struggled to come to acceptance of those changes, but over the last four months, he'd discovered that life could still be good, and he was figuring out new ways to do all the things he used to take for granted.

Physically and emotionally, he was in a pretty good place right now. Still, the thought of going back up to ICU made him a little queasy. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. His best friend — the man who had been with him through flame and through flood and had always had his back — needed him, and Roy intended to be there for him.

"Are you OK, honey?" Jo's hand touched his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "We should go up now."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Roy grabbed his crutches by the hand grips and used them to leverage himself into a standing position. "Let's go."

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**Glossary: **

_Choctaw - English_

Nashoba – wolf; Johnny's Choctaw name

Halito - Hello

Vm vllosi - My babies

Hachi hullo li - I love you (where 'you' is plural)

Atek - My wife

Chi pisa hinla li kiyo - I can't see you

Katimma ish anta? - Where are you?

Aiukli - Beautiful

Cholusa - Be still.

Okmocholi - Close your eyes.

Oklhili mvt mashelichi \- This darkness will pass.

Chi nishkin nihi vt falamachi \- Your sight will return.

Hachiki vt hachi hullo - Your daddy loves you (where 'your' and 'you' are plural)

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**Note**

*The hymn sung by Johnny in this chapter is number 53 in the Choctaw hymnal. The words are a translation of _Give Me Christ or Else I Die,_ written by hymnist William Hammond in 1745. The tune that best fit the Choctaw words, however, is that of an old shape-note carol called _Star in the East._ (If you want to hear the tune, search for "Star in the East" and "The Rose Ensemble" on youtube to find my favorite rendition of it.) This hymn provided great comfort to the Choctaw people during times of sorrow, particularly during the Trail of Tears, when they were forced from their homelands in what is now Mississippi to a new home in Indian Territory. Some of my ancestors made this trek and no doubt took comfort in this hymn. It is still sung today; in fact, I had the privilege of singing it with a small choir at a Choctaw church service last Sunday. Here are the English lyrics; the Choctaw is a very close translation:

_Gracious Lord, incline Thine ear;_

_My request vouchsafe to hear;_

_Hear my never-ceasing cry;_

_Give me Christ, or else I die._

_—_

_Wealth and honor I disdain,_

_Earthly comforts, Lord, are vain;_

_These can never satisfy:_

_Give me Christ, or else I die._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I have finished _Forsaken, _so now I am back to work on this story! Thank you all for your patience. This chapter sees the return of Matthew Carter, whom you may remember from _The Hard Road _as the grandson of _Hogan's Heroes _character Andrew Carter (according to katbybee's version of the HH story world). For background on the connection between katbybee's characters and mine, please see kat's HH story _Three Ring Circus. _Andrew Carter and other HH characters, as well as kat's original characters, will eventually make an appearance in this story.**

**Many thanks to katbybee and Piscean6724 for being the best beta readers ever! Kat, you always know how to help me when writer's block hits! And Piscean, I am ever thankful for your encouragement! **

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Matthew Carter stifled a yawn as he packed up and prepared to leave the station. He had never been so happy to see his A-Shift counterpart arrive so he could officially go off-duty. The shift had been brutal — 19 runs, more than half of those in the dead of night, and one involving a member of the 51's family. He intended to go directly home, climb in bed, and get several hours of uninterrupted sleep, then head over to Rampart to see how Nita was doing. Captain Stoker had suggested he get some shut eye at the station before driving, but Matthew knew he could manage the drive home safely, and he wouldn't be able to sleep well here with the possibility of the tones going off at any time.

"Hey, Carter!" Marco Lopez, A-shift's engineer, came into the locker room and clapped him on the back. "You look beat."

"Tough night. If you happen to find yourself at Rampart today, you should check on Captain Gage. We took his wife in."

"Yeah, Roy called me. I visited last night. She was holding her own."

"Good to hear." Matthew closed his locker and shouldered his bag. "See ya, Lopez."

"Bye… oh… and you've, uh… got someone waiting for you outside." He lifted an eyebrow and grinned. "She's real pretty, too… better be careful, or the guys will have to find you a new nickname."

Matthew rolled his eyes. He'd been dubbed Monk back when he was a boot over at 8's. The guys had tried over and over to entice him into double-dates or set him up with a girl, but he would never bite. He never flirted with the nurses, either. His partner Rod Brenner was the first to use the nickname, after finding Matthew reading his Bible during a little down time. The name — and the reputation — stuck, following him over to 51's after he finished paramedic training, though Marco never used it. It didn't bother Matthew too much, most of the time at least… there were worse nicknames they might pin on a guy who didn't date. He'd take Monk and be thankful. Lately, though, he cringed inwardly every time he heard it. _If they only knew. _"Bye, Marco. Stay safe."

His pace quickened by Marco's news, Matthew strode out of the locker room into the engine bay and from there into the parking lot. Tired as he was, his whole face lit up when he saw Melissa sitting in the bed of his Ford pickup. At the same time, a twinge of guilt shot through him, but he managed to keep it from showing. In his line of work, you had to be good at keeping negative emotions off your face and out of your voice in order to keep from worrying a victim. So now he just whistled in appreciation, then called out in a lighthearted tone, "Well, it's awfully early in the morning for my day to be made, but you've managed it, Melissa!"

He had last seen her about six weeks ago, and that had been a surprise too. They had been exchanging letters for years, ever since they first met during church camp when he was 15 and she was 14. They'd shared their first innocent kiss that week, out behind the camp stables. At the end of the week, they'd said goodbye with the hope of seeing each other the next summer. But by then Melissa's dad had been stationed in Germany and moved his family overseas. Their friendship was relegated to the written word. And it thrived. They had shared everything in those letters.

They both tried dating other people — after all, a couple of kisses didn't amount to an understanding — but Matthew stopped when he realized he was comparing every girl he went out with to Melissa, and every single one fell short. He kept that out of his letters, though. He wouldn't ask for that kind of commitment from her when they couldn't even be together. He just wanted to be a safe place for her, someone she could trust with anything. When Dean Patterson broke her heart, he heard all about it and wished he could be there to lay the guy flat. When he learned that her mom had died unexpectedly, he converted his allowance into a pile of dimes and called her long-distance from the pay phone at school to console her.

Then, six weeks ago, there she was after he came off duty, standing against the back wall. He hadn't even seen a recent photograph of her, but he would know her anywhere. She hadn't changed much since they were kids, other than getting taller and shedding any trace of teenage gawkiness. She still wore her long red hair in a single braid down her back, and a liberal spattering of freckles covered her face and arms, no doubt brought out by the California sunshine.

She had recently been stationed at Camp Pendleton, she explained, and she had kept it a secret because she wanted the fun of surprising him. "It was worth it, too!" she laughed. "Your jaw dropped about six inches!" She had come to L.A. on a two-day pass, hoping to enjoy her days off with her best friend, she explained. And enjoy it they had, easily picking up their friendship as if they had never been apart.

After dinner, Matthew brought her back to her hotel room and walked her up to her door. He didn't mean to go in. He knew it was a bad idea. But she had grasped his hand and gazed into his eyes so pleadingly. "Just for a cup of coffee. I'm not ready to say goodbye yet," she'd said. And when he looked into her sparkling green eyes, he knew he could never tell her no.

One thing led to another, and he had awakened the next morning with her in his arms. He hadn't intended it… after all, they had both been taught that such things should wait for the wedding night. Guilt had gnawed at him ever since.

She felt it too. At least, he thought she did. They hadn't actually talked about it. Instead, they had eaten breakfast in silence, a stark contrast to the previous day when they found no end of things to talk about. Then they had said their farewells and she had climbed in her car to head back to the base. He hadn't heard from her since… until today… but she was in his thoughts constantly.

As he drew closer to his truck, he could see that this time she wasn't smiling. Her eyes didn't dance. As a matter of fact, she was blinking back tears. Suddenly he felt as if he couldn't move fast enough. Like all Carter men, he felt a powerful urge to fix what was wrong for those that he loved, and for the first time he understood how deeply he really did love Melissa. "Liss, honey… what's the matter?" He had reached his truck now and he stepped up on the rear tire, then swung himself over the side so he could sit next to her. The sight of her huddled there, knees pulled up to her chest, freckles standing out in stark contrast against her pale skin, made him feel as if something inside him had broken. "C'mon, Liss… talk to me."

"I've ruined everything," she said finally, her trembling voice just barely above a whisper, and her gaze dropped to the hands she held clenched in her lap. "You're going to hate me."

"Aw, Liss… I could never hate you." He gently lifted her chin and gazed directly into her eyes. "I started loving you that summer we first met, and all these years, I've never stopped. The guys at the station tease me because I never go on dates… never flirt with the nurses." He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her forehead. "It's because I've never met anyone who could make me think twice about loving you. So, whatever is wrong… we'll figure it out together."

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "My dad is going to be so disappointed."

He was quiet for a moment, but she didn't explain, so he gently prompted her. "Go on… I'm listening."

"Matthew…" She looked up suddenly and her eyes fixed on his. "I'm pregnant."

The words practically knocked the air out of him, and it took him a moment to feel like he could see straight. He understood why she was upset… his parents would be disappointed too. And yet… how could he be anything but happy?

He carefully schooled his expression, sensing that jubilation wasn't what she needed from him at the moment. Instead, he pulled her into his lap and cradled her close to his chest. "I love you, Melissa."

"You hardly know me!" she protested as she pulled away. "How could you, from a week of camp and a handful of letters?!"

"More than a handful," he said fiercely. "And Liss, I _do_ know you… you put your heart into every word you ever wrote to me. And what I saw of you the other day when we —" Fresh tears in her eyes kept him from finishing the thought. "Well, your visit that day only confirmed what I already knew." He gently turned her to face him and then raised her chin. "Melissa, you are the one woman in all the world I want to spend my life with. And now… well, maybe we got things out of order, but that doesn't change the fact that this baby is the result of our love. We can be a family together — "

Matthew sighed. He'd dreamt of this moment for years, and this wasn't exactly how he had planned it. But he felt the need to say the words bursting inside of him. "Melissa…" He stroked a thumb lightly down her cheek, wiping away a tear. "I… uh... don't have a ring, but… well… I figure we can fix that later." He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Before he said anything else, he twisted around and positioned himself on one knee, then took her hands in his. Her eyes got huge as she watched him, and he felt his heart swelling with love. "Melissa Sinclair, will you marry me?"

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Marco watched from the engine bay as Matthew knelt in the bed of his truck and gazed into the eyes of the young woman who had come to visit. He briefly considered calling the other guys to join him, but out of respect for the young woman, who seemed pretty upset, he decided against it. If Goldstein got wind of this, he'd never let Matthew live it down.

He didn't like spying, but he stayed rooted to the spot, eager to find out how the young woman responded to what was obviously a proposal. When she fell sobbing into Matthew's arms, Marco wasn't sure if that was a yes or a no. But just then, Captain Reilly, who had taken over for Johnny, summoned the men to roll call and Marco had to pull himself away from the door without the satisfaction of an answer.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy felt his partner's absence keenly when he faced a brand new cadre of trainees the day after Nita was admitted to Rampart's ICU. Most in this group were raw recruits, still in their boot year, though a few were more experienced. Johnny was supposed to have been the primary instructor for their first round of teaching, but now he needed to be with his wife, so Roy had rearranged his therapy schedule and come in early this morning to prepare. _I almost think it was easier when having his back meant walking through fire, _Roy thought as he made his way to the front of the classroom. He could feel the trainees' eyes on him, could hear their whispers, and anxiety settled like a stone in his gut. But when he got to the podium, his eyes fell on Dixie McCall in the front row. She gave him a grin and a wink, and her confidence bolstered his own.

Dixie's wasn't the only familiar face. He saw Billy Folsom, Nita's brother, sitting near the back. Roy knew Billy had been at the hospital much of the night, sitting vigil over his sister with Johnny. He had come to class looking clean and fresh, his uniform neatly pressed, but there was no mistaking the haunted look in his eyes. Roy glanced at the clock on the back wall. Five minutes till class start, plenty of time to speak briefly with the young man. He cleared his throat. "Billy Folsom, please come up to speak with me."

Billy looked up, then stood and came to the front of the room. "Yes, Captain DeSoto?"

Roy kept his voice low so only Billy could hear. "Folsom, if you need to miss class today to be with your sister, I'm more than willing to excuse your absence."

Billy shook his head. "No thank you, Sir. Nita wouldn't want me to do that. When I was accepted for training, she told me she knew I'd make her proud, and I aim to do just that."

Roy smiled. He couldn't help but like Billy. Nita had been only 12 when her mother died giving birth to him, and she had raised him pretty much on her own when their father, mired in his grief, refused to have anything to do with the child. She'd done a good job. Billy was polite, intelligent, and a first-rate firefighter, and Roy had no doubt that he would excel in paramedic training as well. "I think you've been doing that your entire life, Folsom. All right, then, take your seat. We're about to begin."

Once Billy was seated, Roy swung around the podium to stand in full view in front of the class. "Good afternoon, everyone. I'm Captain Roy DeSoto. I'll be filling in for Captain John Gage this week. Along with Captain Gage, I've been involved in the paramedic program since its beginning. We fought for the program before it was approved, and we were among the first paramedics in the field here in Los Angeles. We were partnered together at Station 51 from the time the Wedworth-Townsend Act* was passed in 1970 through 1978, when we were promoted to Captain, and we have continued to keep our certification current. Now we are glad to be part of the paramedic program again, as instructors. You see, you have a valuable advantage we didn't have when we got started — you have us. That is, you have the benefit of our experience in the field. We had all the book-learning and training you're getting from doctors like Brackett and Early and nurses like Dixie McCall here." He nodded and flashed a smile in Dixie's direction. "But being able to recall that information and put it to use in high-stress environments — say, under fire, or precariously perched on the side of a cliff, or in a hostage situation — that's what we can tell you about."

He fell silent for a few seconds and glanced down at his crutches. He could feel that their attention was drawn to the stump of his leg, and he knew he had to say something or they would not be able to move on. He glanced at Dixie, taking comfort from her quiet support. "All right, now, I'm going to address the elephant in the room. Yes, I lost my leg on the job. I don't remember the actual event — I only know what I learned after the fact, from those who were involved in the rescue effort and from newspaper clippings my wife gave me. What happened isn't really important. The important thing is that you understand right here, right now, what your commitment to rescue and paramedic work can mean.

"I remember when I was a boot. I walked into that fire station on the first day feeling invulnerable. Hell, I'd made it home alive from a POW camp in Nam." He glanced at Dixie again as he mentioned Nam, something he'd never discussed publicly before. She knew his story, a lot more than he intended to tell these men. Somehow, simply acknowledging it had lifted a weight from his shoulders that he hadn't even realized he was still carrying. Dixie's soft smile urged him to keep going. "What more could happen to me? Well, it took the death of the senior lineman at my first station for me to fully understand that any day on duty might be the day I didn't go home. If you can recognize that truth, and you can still run into that burning building or keep working on a trapped victim when you know you've got four minutes before another bomb goes off, and you aren't sure you can get out on time — well, then you'll know for sure you've found your calling." He moved back around the podium and took a sip of the water that had been set there for him — he guessed by Dixie. "But you have to be prepared for the fact that one day, you might wake up in a hospital bed and find out that you need to listen for a new calling, or maybe just a new way to answer the old call. That's how I ended up partnering with Captain Gage again, and why I'm here, talking to you today."

He took another sip of water, then asked if anyone had questions. No one spoke a word. After a long silence, he nodded. "All right, then. If anyone wants to talk privately, you can make an appointment to talk with me. Now, when you signed the attendance log this morning, each of you should have received a syllabus, a station assignment, and a packet of readings. If you didn't, please raise your hand and Nurse McCall will make sure you have what you need."

Dixie turned in her seat to count the hands that went up, then moved to pass out the remaining packets while Roy went over the syllabus and the class policies. It took him about 20 minutes to cover the necessary material. Then he gave the first reading assignment and excused them early.

The students filed out, and Roy moved around the podium again to sit next to Dixie, surprised by how much the half hour had taken out of him.

Dixie eyed him, and Roy squirmed a little, unsure what she might say. Then he saw how her eyes sparkled. "I'm proud of you, Roy DeSoto."

His cheeks warmed as he ducked his head. "I didn't do much, Dix."

"I disagree." She curled her fingers around his. "Life took you on one hell of a ride last year, Roy, and you didn't let it knock you down."**

A vague smile flitted across Roy's face and he squeezed Dixie's hand. "I seem to recall a whole lotta help from a whole lotta people on that… you included."

"Well now," Dixie said, her eyes sparkling. "I was just taking care of one of my boys."

Roy nodded, his expression serious. "You always have, Dix. You always have." They were both saved from any awkwardness when Dixie heard herself paged down to the ER. She hurried off with a quick wave and a smile.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy peered into Nita's ICU cubicle and raised an eyebrow at what he saw there. Nita was sound asleep; Johnny was too. He lay next to her on the bed, one hand resting on her abdomen. How he'd managed to get into that position without dislodging her IV line, Roy wasn't sure, but there he was.

"I found him that way an hour ago," said a soft voice from behind Roy. He turned to find the ICU nurse. "I didn't have the heart to make him move. Besides, I think it's helping — her vitals have improved."

Roy nodded. "Good," he whispered. "Let him know I was here, OK, Suzanne? And call me when he wakes up — I'll be in the office till two. Joanne sent lunch for him, and I'm under orders to make sure he eats." His mouth quirked up in a wry smile. One of Joanne's preferred ways to deal with stress was to cook, and she had cooked up a storm once she'd gotten home yesterday. She hadn't come to bed until after midnight, and this morning she'd packed up Tupperware containers full of pot roast, carrots, and potatoes, and sent them with Roy, along with detailed instructions for proper reheating. On top of that, Winifred Canfield from next door had sent along a batch of her best peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. The smell of them had set Roy's mouth to watering, but he'd managed to keep his hands off them… well… mostly. Johnny wouldn't miss one... or two.

Suzanne nodded and smiled. "Yes sir, Captain DeSoto."

"Thanks, Suzanne. See you later." With one last glance at John and Nita, Roy headed for his office. He intended to try to get a jump on some of the paperwork for his class. Depending on how things went with Nita, he could be flying solo as a teacher for a while.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**NOTE**

*The Wedsworth-Townsend act was signed into law by California Governor Ronald Reagan on July 15, 1970, launching the state's paramedic program into action. In the _Emergency _pilot, the name of the act is given as the Wedworth-Townsend act, so that is what I have used here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Wow… lots has happened since I last posted! Mainly two things – my husband and I moved to a new house in early June; then, immediately after the move, I traveled to Tunica, Mississippi for the Memphis Film Festival! What an amazing opportunity – thank you, Piscean6725, for telling me about it! It was awesome seeing you in person again and meeting several other Emergency fanfic writers! And of course, nothing beats meeting Robert Fuller and Randolph Mantooth in person! Since I've been home, I've been trying to balance my desire to spend every spare moment writing with my responsibility to work with the hubby to get us settled in the new house. We've still got lots of boxes to unpack – somehow the books seem to have multiplied like rabbits while they were in storage because we are running out of shelf space.**

**Thank you, dear readers, for your patience with the delays to this update. I'm grateful to all who are sticking with me, especially those who take a moment to post a review! And as always, a big thank you goes to my beta readers, Piscean6275 and katbybee, for all their encouragement and excellent suggestions as I've worked on this chapter! They constantly challenge me to become a better writer, and for that I am truly grateful.**

**I have used some Choctaw in this chapter — you'll find a glossary at the end. **

**Now, without further ado, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"Nashoba?"

At the sound of his wife's weak voice, Johnny jolted awake. Once he opened his eyes, it took a moment for what he was seeing to register. She was sitting up in bed, clutching her midsection, her pillow and blanket stained red. She had a nosebleed, what his dad would've called "a real gusher." He sprang to his feet, grabbed the call button, and pressed it, then pulled a wad of tissues out of the box at her bedside.

"I'm here, Nita," he said, as he slid into place next to her and held the tissues up to her nose. "Nita, honey..."

She gave a soft moan. **"Pimvllosi ish hullochikvt chi anumpa ama!"** Her words slurred, but her meaning was plain. She was no longer as pale as she had been, but the red in her cheeks was not the dusky rose Johnny found so beautiful — no, she was flushed, and she seemed to be struggling to catch her breath.

"I'll love them, honey. So will you." He kissed her forehead as he squeezed the call button again. "Dammit, Suzanne, where are you?!" he growled.

"I'm right here, Captain Gage, and Dr. Brackett is on the way." The nurse in question had scurried into the room without him even noticing. She was holding a blood pressure cuff and was just stepping away from the intercom.

"Well, don't just stand there! Do something!" Perhaps later Johnny would feel a pang of regret for his harsh tone, but right now his only thought was of his wife.

Perhaps later he would appreciate that Suzanne didn't scold, but kept her voice calm and soothing, unrattled by his panic. "Captain Gage, you need to step aside so that I _can_ do something."

Johnny glared at her for a second, until understanding sank in. "Right," he said, suddenly contrite. "Sorry." He moved off the bed and allowed Suzanne access.

As she stepped to Nita's side and put the blood pressure cuff in place, she gave him a soft smile. "Why don't you go around the other side of the bed and hold her hand. I think it will help her to have you there for now."

Wordless, Johnny nodded. He moved around the bed and took Nita's hand, taking care not to dislodge her IV. He felt helpless, just standing here. With his training, he could do the things Suzanne was doing now, getting the vitals and drawing blood for lab work. Just standing here holding Nita's hand wasn't accomplishing anything. He needed to fix this. That was his job wasn't it?

_A job I've been failing at ever since they brought Nita in. _Johnny knew his wife had been badly shaken by this whole experience, especially the loss of her sight, and he hadn't known how to help her through it. The doctor's assurances that her blindness was only temporary had done little to comfort her, and Johnny felt as if all his attempts to encourage her had been in vain. Oh, Nita was the bravest woman Johnny knew. Their ranch hand, Tex, had once likened her to an ancient warrior woman, with steel running through her veins. But she knew the dangers of toxemia as well as Johnny did — she had watched her mother succumb to it years ago, minutes after giving birth to Billy — and fear that she would not live to watch her babies grow seemed to have broken her. The few times she had been fully conscious over the last few days, she had talked as if she believed she would die, leaving Johnny alone to raise their twins.

He bent close to her ear, murmuring reassurances in Choctaw, begging her to hold on and promising that all would be well. He was only vaguely aware when Brackett and Dixie arrived, and then another doctor from obstetrics.

Soon he felt Dixie's hands on his shoulders, pulling him back. "Come on, Johnny. They have to get her to the OR. Dr. Hanover needs to take the babies now."

"Now, Dix?" He shuddered slightly, his brow creasing as he tried to make sense of what was happening. "She's… she's not…"

"She's going to be all right," Dixie said firmly. "And the babies will too. You need to believe that. Dr. Hanover is the best and Kel will be right there with her the whole time. Nita is in good hands. C'mon, Tiger… let me —"

"I know, I know… buy me a cup of coffee." Johnny was grateful that Dixie had a tight grip on him. He wasn't sure he would keep his feet if she let go. He watched as Nita was wheeled out of the room on a gurney. Part of him wanted to argue to be allowed to gown up and accompany her into the OR, but he knew he would only be in the way. Dr. Hanover would never allow it anyway. She was, as Dixie said, Rampart's best obstetrician, but she wasn't keen on the paramedic program and would never consent to his presence, regardless of his training. Johnny wasn't about to distract her from taking care of Nita and the babies for anything. With a heavy sigh, he nodded his assent. "Yeah… OK, Dix. A cup of coffee it is. Thanks."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Once they had their coffee, Dixie led Johnny to the surgical waiting area. She was glad she had given herself the night shift this week, because it meant she could be there for her good friend now. She had never seen Johnny so rattled. Correction — she had seen it before, a couple of years ago when Nita was missing and her brother badly injured in a fire, and then last fall when Roy was caught in the building collapse.* But in both cases, he had been able to take that nervous energy and transform it into action to find his loved ones, to participate in saving their lives. This time, he was forced to stand by and let others do the life-saving work, and Dixie could see that it was killing him to surrender Nita's fate to another's hands.

"Talk to me, Dix," he said. He was looking past her, his gaze fixed on the door leading to the OR. "What happened? I… uh… didn't really hear what they were saying in there."

"I understand." She squeezed his hand. "Dr. Hanover thinks that Nita has HELLP Syndrome." His brow furrowed slightly, and she thought maybe he hadn't heard of the condition before. "It's a complication of toxemia."

"Hemolysis, elevated liver enzymes, low platelet count," Johnny recited, his voice a monotone. "Could lead to seizure or stroke, liver rupture, respiratory failure, placental abruption… which could result in still —" His voice broke off and Dixie watched his eyes flood with tears. "Damn it, Dix… I can't lose them."

"You listen to me, John Gage." She grasped his chin and turned his head so that he had to look right at her. Over the years, Dixie had learned to assume many roles for the benefit of her patients and their families. She could be soft and warm if the situation called for it, or she could be tough as nails. Right now, tough as nails was what Johnny needed, and so Dixie laced her tone with steel. "You know I can't promise you that you won't. But I can promise this. Everything that can be done for Nita and the babies is being done. Their chances are good. Very good, in fact. You saw to it she got immediate attention. That was your part. Now you wait and you pray and you let others do their part."

Johnny shuddered slightly, then straightened his back. Dixie's eyes swept over him in a quick appraisal. He looked exhausted, but his color had improved. To Dixie's satisfaction, he gave a brisk nod and seemed to pull himself together. "Yeah. You're right Dix. Thanks." He raised his cup to his lips and took a sip, then got to his feet. "I'll be in the chapel." He crushed the empty Styrofoam cup and pitched it in a trash bin on his way out of the room.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Joanne hadn't heard the phone ring, but when Roy suddenly sat bolt upright next to her, the movement pulled her out of a sound sleep. She sat up too and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, Dix… when?"

_Must be about Nita. _Joanne kissed her husband's bare shoulder, then slid out from under the covers. She padded across the room to her dresser, listening carefully to Roy's half of the phone conversation. When she glanced back at her husband, she saw him nodding, eyes narrowed, brow taut, lips drawn into a grim line.

"OK, Dix," he said after a moment. "I'll come as soon as I can arrange a ride. Thanks for callin'." He paused briefly, but still held the phone to his ear. "Yeah, I know. Thanks again. Bye." He hung up and just sat for a few seconds, looking stunned.

Joanne opened the middle dresser drawer and picked up the first sweatshirt she saw, the old Disneyland one Roy had given her a couple of years ago. She took off her nightgown and slipped the shirt on, then pulled on her jeans before moving to Roy's dresser. "Nita?" she asked as she grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt and tossed them to him.

"Yeah." Roy swung around in the bed and reached for his clothes. "She's having an emergency c-section right now. It's touch and go, Jo. Brackett's not sure she'll make it. I'll call Chet for a ride over to — wait, why are you gettin' dressed?"

"I'm your ride. No need to wake Chet." Joanne opened her closet and bent to pick up her shoes. "When I told Grandma Winnie about Nita the other day, she said to call, day or night, if we need her to stay with the kids. She can feed them breakfast and see them off to school in the morning if we're not back yet."

Roy nodded and a wan smile flitted across his worried features. "Winifred Canfield has been a real godsend to this family, hasn't she?"

"She sure has. Go on… get dressed while I give her a call." She stepped to Roy's side of the bed and gave him a kiss on the forehead, then picked up the phone handset and dialed their next-door neighbor's number from memory.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

The c-section itself didn't take long. As soon as Dr. Hanover had finished her work and handed the twins off to the obstetrics nurses who were standing by, Dr. Brackett moved into place. He met eyes with Joe Early across the table and took a deep breath before beginning a careful appraisal of Nita's condition. Based on her bloodwork, along with the sudden gush of blood Dr. Hanover had encountered when opening the peritoneum, Kel suspected a ruptured liver, but he knew there could be other explanations.

"Darla, hang another unit of blood." Brackett was only vaguely aware of the flurry of activity on the other side of the room, where Hanover had turned her attention, but he made note of the fact that he heard both babies crying. That, at least, was a relief. "Joe, more suction. I need to figure out where all this blood is coming from."

Once suction had cleared the field, he was able to confirm his suspicions — Nita's liver had ruptured. Kel frowned behind his surgical mask. "We need to get Abrams in here. She may need a transplant."

"Abrams is out of town for his daughter's wedding," Joe countered. "What about Valdez, from USC? He's an excellent hepatologist, and he has privileges here."

Kel agreed with a curt nod. "All right. Let's pack the liver for now to control the bleeding. Joe, you're friends with Valdez. See how fast you can get him over here, then go give Johnny an update. He's probably climbing the walls by now."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy and Johnny sat side by side in the chapel, each man silent as a stone. Roy's thoughts carried him back to the day D.J. had been born. He'd been the one sitting on this hard pew then, pleading with God to spare his wife and child, in need of his brother's quiet comfort and support.* Johnny had promised to be there for him for the duration, and he had been. Roy would do no less — not because he felt a sense of obligation, but simply because he couldn't imagine being anywhere else when his brother was in need.

Johnny finally broke the silence with a wry laugh. "Deja vu all over again, huh?"

"Yeah, guess so," Roy said with a squeeze to Johnny's shoulder. "And what you told me then is just as true now. 'They're in the best of hands.'"

"Yeah, I know." Johnny craned his neck to look back at the door. "I just wish someone would come tell me what's happening. Seems like hours since I came in here."

"Sounds familiar." Roy recalled the slow crawl of time as he'd waited for word on Joanne and DJ. He put a hand on Johnny's arm. "Whatever happens, Junior, you aren't alone in any of this. Whatever you need, we're there for you, same as you've always been for us."

The chapel door creaked open. "Johnny?" Dr. Early said. "Dixie told me I'd find you here."

Roy observed the doctor carefully but wasn't sure how to interpret his expression.

"Doc… how are they? Can I see them?" Johnny stood, but Joe gestured for him to sit back down, then sat next to him.

"First things first," he said, "they're alive, all three of them. I'm not going to lie to you — Nita's condition is critical. Her liver ruptured. We've got Dr. Peter Valdez on his way over from USC to assess her and decide what needs to be done. He might be able to repair the damage, but there's a possibility she will need a transplant. In either case, he's the man for the job."

Johnny swiped a hand across his face, and Roy read a mixture of relief and fear in his eyes. "And the babies, Doc?"

At that, a grin spread across the doctor's face. "Well, your daughter is a feisty little girl with a strong set of lungs, in spite of her early arrival, and apparently no trouble making her opinions known. Her little brother seems to be a bit quieter, but he looks good too. They're up in NICU, eager to meet their daddy. The obstetrics team can give you all the vital statistics when you get there."

Johnny just stared at him, slack-jawed, his eyes lighting up for the first time since Roy had arrived. "A girl… and a boy… as in… one of each?"

Roy chuckled and reached for his crutches. "Well, come on, Junior. What are you waiting for?!"

But Johnny shook his head. Roy could see the battle being fought behind his dark eyes. "I… I need to be with Nita."

Dr. Early put a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "She's deeply sedated right now," he said.

When Johnny still looked uncertain, Roy added, "Tell me this, Junior. Where would Nita want you to be?"

With a long slow nod and a heavy sigh, Johnny finally gave in. "You're right. She would want me to be with the babies."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Johnny's hand tightened into a fist as he stared through the window into the NICU ward at a long row of incubators. Inside the room, the lights were dimmed, and he couldn't read the name cards on the incubators to figure out which ones held his son and daughter.

He wanted to go in, but Nurse Hetty Spears had refused to admit him and Roy. Without ever opening the door for them, she had informed them over the intercom that "Only mothers are allowed outside regular visiting hours." Johnny knew Dr. Early would have overruled the woman, but he had been called back to the ER just as they were leaving the chapel.

He was just about ready to break the door down, but Roy held him back. "Steady, Junior. Let me go get Dixie. She'll get us in... without anyone calling Security."

Too tired to argue, Johnny sank into a chair in the waiting area while Roy headed back to the elevator. He must have dozed off, because next thing he knew, a hand was gently shaking him by the shoulder and Dixie's voice sounded close to his ear.

"Come on, Daddy. Let's go see those babies. I read Nurse Spears the riot act. She should know better — we've been letting fathers in after visiting hours for years."

Johnny turned his head from side to side, stretching his neck a bit to get the crick out of it, then got to his feet to lumber after Dixie. Roy came right behind him. As they entered the NICU, Johnny noticed that Nurse Spears carefully avoided eye contact. Dixie's riot act tended to have that effect on people.

They stopped to wash their hands, then Dixie led them to the end of the row of incubators. At last she stopped. "Here we are, Johnny. Baby Boy and Baby Girl Gage. She weighed in at four pounds, four ounces, and measured 18 inches long. Her brother is a bit smaller, at three pounds, ten ounces and 17 and a half inches. But they both look good, all things considered."

Johnny moved past her and leaned over the first incubator, the one with a pink name card. His little girl was so tiny, he could hardly believe she was real, but she was squirming and making squeaking noises. Tufts of thick black hair stuck out under her hospital hat, and Johnny could see a rosy bloom in her cheeks. When she opened her dark eyes and stared up at him, he felt an overwhelming surge of love wash over him. _Every baby is a miracle, _his mother had told him long ago. He had believed her, but today he understood as he never had before.

Though it was hard to tear his eyes from the tiny girl, after a moment Johnny shifted his gaze to the next incubator, where his son lay sleeping. Though he looked a lot like his twin, he was visibly smaller and seemed more fragile. Johnny gazed into his face, and his heart turned a flip. It amazed him, the bond he felt within just a few seconds of meeting his children face to face.

Each baby was clad in nothing more than a diaper and a little knit cap, and each had a tube running into its nose. His son sported some other tubes as well. "Feeding tubes?" Johnny asked. "And he's on oxygen, but she isn't?"

Dixie nodded. "Dr. Damon will come talk with you as soon as she can, but I know that your daughter hasn't had any trouble breathing — her lungs seem to be better developed than her brother's. He just needs some extra oxygen support while his lungs mature. And they'll both need the tube feeding for a couple of weeks. They're not quite ready for a bottle yet, but they'll get there."

"But Dix…" Johnny's brow furrowed and he frowned. "Nita wants to nurse."

Dixie gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "I know. She told me. And we'll do everything that we can to make it possible for her. But you don't need to worry about that just now. You have two precious babies who need your undivided attention."

"Yeah… you're —" Johnny stopped short when his daughter began to cry. The sound threatened to tear his heart in two. "Dix, she wants to be held. Can't I —"

Across the room, Nurse Spears snorted in disapproval. Apparently, she had recovered sufficiently from Dixie's scolding to make her opinion known once again. Before she could speak, though, Dixie fixed her with an angry glare. Johnny watched as the woman huffed and hurried back to her desk near the door.

Dixie gave him a warm smile as she produced a surgical mask and presented it to him. "Go wash your hands, Johnny, then put this on. I've already cleared it with Dr. Damon."

Eyes wide, Johnny gulped. "You mean… but Dix… she's so small... are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. It's just what she needs. Now go on! Oh, unbutton your shirt too. Skin-to-skin contact does wonders for preemies. We call it Kangaroo Care. Usually the mothers are the ones to do it, but it will be a while before Nita's ready."

Johnny shot a nervous glance at Roy, but his friend just grinned and nodded. "Go on, Johnny! What are you waitin' for?!"

Within a few minutes, Johnny was seated in a reclining chair, wearing a surgical mask, with his shirt unbuttoned to expose his chest. Once he had leaned the chair back a bit, Dixie brought him his daughter. "Now, you'll have to mind the tubes, but just settle her on your chest, on one side. Once she's in place, we'll get the little guy and put him on the other side."

As soon as the baby girl was snuggled up to her daddy's chest, her complaining stopped. Her little hand flailed a bit until it came into contact with her brother, who had slept through the transfer. Then, holding on to her twin, her head pressed close against Johnny, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy stood to one side, watching the varied emotions written on Johnny's expressive face as he held his son and daughter. He remembered quite well how he had felt when he held each of his own three for the first time, and he imagined what Johnny was feeling was pretty much the same: Awe and wonder and deep-seated joy, most likely tempered by a touch of sorrow that he wasn't sharing this amazing moment with his wife, and all topped off with just a modicum of sheer terror.

"So Junior," Roy asked, keeping his voice low to avoid waking the babies. "Do these babies have names, or are we just gonna keep callin' 'em Baby Boy and Baby Girl?"

"Huh?" Johnny looked up. If his hands weren't occupied holding babies, Roy was pretty sure from the way he rolled his eyes that one would be splayed across his chest now. "Of course they have names, Roy."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Well, are you gonna share them anytime soon, or do we have to wait for the birth announcement?"

Before answering, Johnny dropped a kiss on the top of his daughter's head, then another one on his son's. "You can wait… but just till Nita is out of danger. She'll want to be there when you hear the names."

"Fair enough." Roy swung forward on his crutches to get a better view of the babies for a moment. "I'm going to head down to the waiting room and give Joanne the news. Congratulations, Junior. They're beautiful."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Billy sat up quickly, swung his legs over the side of his bed, and reached for his turnouts. When his hand closed on empty space, he realized he'd only been dreaming about the klaxons. He was in the guest bedroom at Johnny and Nita's house. With Tex away, Billy had volunteered to stay nights at the ranch so his brother-in-law wouldn't have to worry about the horses or the dog while he stayed with Nita at the hospital. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand told him it was just a little after midnight. Plenty of good sleeping time left before he had to get up and tend the stock, then get ready for another day of paramedic training. At the foot of the bed, Tasembo whined softly. Billy gave the black lab a pat on the head. "I know, boy. I'm worried about her too."

He lay back down and closed his eyes again. Tasembo squirmed his way under Billy's arm and rested a chin on his chest. Billy appreciated the companionship. He hadn't had a dog of his own for years, and Bo had proved to be a real comfort over the last few days. He stroked the dog's back as he drifted back off to sleep.

Bo may have been a comfort, but his presence didn't do much to improve Billy's dreams. This time, instead of the fire station, he found himself in the woods back home, a child once again. He had always loved to play in these woods, surrounded by fragrant cedar and pine and the white ash he loved to climb. **Ippokni** insisted a few white ash leaves stuffed into each moccasin and in his pockets would protect him from rattlesnake bites. Billy wasn't entirely sure that was true, but Nita had taught him to respect the wisdom of the elders, and so he complied.

Usually, the woods were a place of peace for Billy. But the further he walked now, the greater his sense of foreboding. Something was terribly wrong. He felt as if he should turn back, but when he did, he found that the trees were closing in around him, threatening to suffocate him.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, **ishkitini **flew at him with a loud shriek, talons poised for attack. Billy threw up his arms to protect his face, but then he heard an angry snarl and a flurry of barking. He backed away from the owl as a sleek black form jumped between him and the large bird, hackles raised and teeth bared.

"Bo! How did you get here?!" Though he remained in the dream world, Billy was no longer a small boy lost in the woods. As he watched, the horned owl let out a last screech and then flew away, disappearing into the dark forest. Billy knelt by Tasembo's side and put an arm around him. "**Yakoke**, Bo."

The dog licked his face, and then Billy could swear he heard words coming from the creature's throat. "Go to the hospital. Nita is in danger."

In an instant, he awoke once more. Tasembo lay sleeping fitfully, his paws twitching as he growled at whatever dream was troubling him. Billy's dream was still quite clear in his memory. He wasn't sure what to think. The guys at the station would say it was only a dream, would probably tell him he was crazy to give it any heed, but to his people, dreams carried great meaning. Something in his gut told him that the dream was a warning, so he got up and got dressed. Within twenty minutes, he was on the road, heading for Rampart.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy looked up from his quiet conversation with Joanne to see Billy Folsom walking into the surgical waiting room. "Billy, we've been trying to call you. I guess Dixie got hold of you?"

"No, Cap, she didn't. I had a dr —" He hesitated briefly. "I mean, I just had a feeling I needed to come, and the nurse at reception sent me up here. What happened?"

Roy nodded to the empty chair next to him. "Have a seat. I'll tell you everything, then we'll head up to NICU so you and Jo can meet the babies."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Glossary (Choctaw – English)**

Pimvllosi ish hullochikvt chi anumpa ama! – Promise me, you will love our babies!

Ippokni – his (or her) grandmother

Ishkitini – great horned owl; according to Choctaw tradition, the screeching of an owl foreshadows a death.

Yakoke – Thank you

**NOTES**

*The incidents Dixie is thinking of are found in my stories _Stirring the Ashes of Memory _and _The Hard Road._

**See my story _The Gift._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who messaged me or posted reviews expressing concern for Nita! Without giving spoilers, I can tell you that the wonderful staff at Rampart is doing everything they can to take excellent care of her. Marbo, you're right – it is good that Tasembo was there to scare off the owl in Billy's dream! He may be a crazy pup (his name means 'crazy'!) but he's also a sweetheart!**

**My husband and I are leaving today (like, almost immediately after I post) on a road trip with our two grandchildren (both under age 2), so I won't have much time for writing over the next couple of weeks. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to get some done while the babies are napping, but I'm not going to count on it – I will probably be so tired when that happens that I'll be napping myself! Still, I'll be online when I can and checking my messages, so I look forward to hearing from my readers!**

**Thanks as always to my beta-readers, Piscean6724 and katbybee! Kat helped me write the final scene in this chapter, providing responses for Kel Brackett. I love writing with her that way!**

**Enjoy!**

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Glossary (Spanish - English)**

Hola, mi amigo. ¿Cómo estás? - Hello, my friend. How are you?

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Matthew Carter lay in bed, listening to his 51's brothers snore. Usually, he was among the first of the crew to fall asleep after lights out, so he wasn't generally treated to this symphony. Bowman's snore sounded a bit like a motorboat, while Beck's was more of a soft whine. Cap's monotone hum competed with Garrison's buzz saw. And Timmons? Well, his snorts and snuffling reminded Matt of Bernie, the St. Bernard he'd had as a kid. Damn, but he missed that dog.

As sleep continued to elude him, his thoughts wandered to Melissa… to the child — his child — that grew within her. She hadn't said yes to his proposal yet. But then, she also hadn't said no. She'd nodded miserably and promised to think about it. He'd been thinking about it too and he'd come to a decision. She deserved a better proposal. He needed to woo her, to make sure she knew he considered her something special and wasn't just proposing because of the baby. He'd tried telling her how he felt, but she was so distraught, he wasn't sure she'd heard it. At least she was coming up to Los Angeles tonight so they could talk.

In the back of his mind, a guilty thought niggled at him. _I need to call Mom and Dad. Or maybe Gramps. I sure could use some of their wisdom._ But he pushed that thought away. He was a grown man. He could step up and take responsibility all on his own. That would make them proud, wouldn't it? Besides, he wanted to break the news to them gently, over time. Once Melissa was wearing his ring, he would introduce them to her, and when they had fallen in love with her, he would figure out a way to let them know they were gaining not only a daughter, but a grandchild.

Matthew finally drifted off to sleep around two in the morning, but it was a restless sleep, with the thoughts that had been troubling him in his waking hours chasing him into his dreams.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Johnny wasn't sure he had ever spent a longer night. He stayed in the NICU with the babies and his brother-in-law until Dixie brought word that Dr. Valdez was waiting in Kel's office to speak with him. Nurse Spears had remained surly the whole time, but Dr. Damon, the neonatologist, had informed her in no uncertain terms that Johnny, Roy, Joanne, and Billy were to have visiting privileges at all hours.

"Go on," said Jo, who had come in with Dixie. "I'll take her." Johnny had passed his son over to Billy a while ago but had kept his daughter cradled on his chest.

"Thanks." He kissed the baby's forehead, then carefully passed her to Jo.

Joanne caught his hand before he could leave. "She's going to make it, Johnny. We have to believe that."

"I'm tryin'." He squeezed her hand, then pulled away and hurried out to find Roy waiting for him in the corridor. Together, the two men went downstairs to meet with Dr. Valdez.

Johnny felt as if he were going to face a firing squad. He was glad to have Roy at his side. They didn't say a word — they didn't need to. Roy's steady presence was comfort enough to keep him setting one foot in front of another as long as he needed to.

When they entered Brackett's office, they found Dr. Early behind the desk. An older man with salt-and-pepper hair sat across from Early.

"John… Roy…" Joe said, pointing out each man in turn. "I'd like you to meet Pete Valdez."

"Doctor." Johnny nodded as he took a seat. Roy remained standing next to him. Balanced on one crutch, he placed his free hand on Johnny's shoulder. "How is Nita?"

"Her condition is critical, Mr. Gage," the doctor said. "Her liver was beyond repair. I had to remove the damaged organ and insert a portacaval shunt, which will buy us some time to find her a new liver."

Johnny clenched his fists as his eyes met Valdez's frank gaze. "How much time, Doc?"

"Approximately 48 hours."

Johnny felt Roy's hand tighten its grip on his shoulder. "Just 48 hours? Will that be enough?"

"I can't answer that question, Mr. Gage. Finding a donor liver can be difficult. Back east, where I was trained, there is a database of sorts for organ procurement, and there is talk of establishing it as a national network. But at this point, that hasn't happened.* Another consideration is your wife's blood type — O negative. This isn't the rarest blood type, but neither is it the most common, shared by less than 7% of the population. Mrs. Gage can only receive an organ from an O negative donor. We will need to locate this donor ourselves. I've sent word to all the hospitals on the west coast, and we will be notified if a liver becomes available. Now, as Mrs. Gage's next of kin, you need to sign authorization so that we can proceed immediately as soon a liver is procured."

Johnny felt as if he had been sucker-punched. He closed his eyes, concentrating on just drawing in a breath and then letting it out slowly. This wasn't real, was it? It was all a terrible nightmare and if he waited a moment, he would wake up and find himself lying in bed next to Nita and everything would be fine.

But he couldn't wake up. He was already wide awake, and when he opened his eyes again, Early and Valdez were still sitting there, waiting for him to respond. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out at first. Did hoping for a liver to become available make him a terrible person? Because that meant he was hoping for someone's death.** He clenched his teeth and squared his shoulders. The very thought that someone would have to die for Nita to live — he knew she would hate that. _God forgive me, but I don't care. I need her. The babies need her._ "A'right, Doc," he said, his voice quiet, tinged with sorrow. "Where do I sign?"

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Matthew awoke when the morning tones sounded. Thankfully, they'd had no runs during the night. He stretched and got up, then trudged sleepily to the locker room, passing A-shift paramedics Trace Morgan and Mitch Dwyer on the way. Their presence meant he was officially off-shift. He had showered before bed, so for now he would slip into his civvies and head home. He had a lot to do today, to be ready for his date with Melissa this evening.

He had just started tying his sneaker laces when Marco Lopez stepped in. Marco looked around, then sat down on the bench next to Matthew and elbowed him lightly. "Hola, mi amigo. ¿Cómo estás?"

"Good." Matthew bent down to stuff his laundry into his duffel bag. He didn't want to be rude, but he really wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Marco put a hand on his arm, preventing him from standing up. "How is your friend… the young lady?"

"Melissa?" Matthew gave a non-committal shrug. "She's fine." He started to pull away, but Marco's grip tightened.

"Matthew, I saw everything." Marco had lowered his voice almost to a whisper, even though no one else was in the locker room with them. "She was crying and you got down on your knees. It looked like a proposal, but… well… there was something more going on." He fixed concerned eyes on Matthew. "Is everything OK, pal?"

The young paramedic exhaled in a long sigh as he realized just how much he wanted to confide in someone. Marco was a good bet. He wasn't prone to gossip and had a reputation for being a man of compassion. He couldn't bring his eyes to meet the engineer's. "She's pregnant," he finally said, his voice a monotone.

Marco lay a firm hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Every baby is a miracle, amigo, even if it shakes up your life."

Matthew nodded, long and slow. "I know. But this is about an eight on the Richter scale as far as Melissa is concerned. She's terrified of what her dad will think of her… what my parents will think… even what I think! And nothing I said made her feel better."

"What do you think of her?" Marco asked.

Matthew was quiet for a moment before answering. "I love her. She's got such a big heart, but she's always been a little unsure of herself. Like… she can't see what I see in her. She moved to Germany not long after we met and we wrote letters back and forth for years. She put everything in those letters — all her hopes and dreams, everything that touched her heart. How she snuck food to a stray dog she found on the base, and how she spent the summer when she was 17, working as a counselor at a camp for refugee kids. She fell in love with every single one of them." A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth and his eyes brightened as he thought about her. "Every word she wrote made me fall all the harder for her. Then she showed up about six weeks before that day you saw her… the first time I'd seen her since we were kids, before she moved. She was more beautiful than I remembered."

"Don't tell me," Marco said, punctuating it with a slap to Matthew's knee. "Tell her. And make it special. Spend some money on her, have a ring, the whole enchilada. You need to make sure she knows she's worth it."

Matthew couldn't help a chuckle. "You just confirmed exactly what I was thinking. She's coming tonight and I've been trying to come up with a way to do just that — make it special."

"Hey… my cousin Rosita works at the reception at L'Orangerie. She can help you get a reservation."

Matthew rubbed at the back of his neck. "L'Orangerie… that'll cost me a week's pay. And could she really get us in at this short notice?"

"Like I said…" Marco clapped him on the back, then stood and opened his locker. "Make it special," he said as he pulled out his uniform shirt. "You need to splurge a little. I'll write down Rosita's number for you. Give her a call and tell her I promised she would take good care of you."

For a few seconds, Matthew just stared down at his hands, but then he looked up and gave a brisk nod. "OK. Thanks, Marco. I'll give her a call as soon as I get home."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy had never seen his friend so quiet. The years had mellowed Johnny since their first meeting, back when he came to HQ to inquire about paramedic training, but he still almost always had something to say. Today, he'd barely said two words. Ever since the talk with Dr. Valdez, he had remained at Nita's side, except when the nurses came to take her vitals. They would kick him out and he would make a beeline for NICU to check on the twins before returning to Nita's bedside.

Roy hovered near Johnny most of the morning, taking only a short break to go up to the classroom and write a note for his students. Class cancelled. Make up session will be announced Monday. He taped the note on the door and then went to find Joanne. Together, they would get lunch at the cafeteria and take it back to ICU, so they could make sure Johnny got something to eat before Roy had to leave for physical therapy.

As much as he wanted to stay with his friend and provide moral support, he couldn't reschedule this appointment again. He was supposed to get his prosthetic leg today and start learning to use it, an important step toward restoring some normalcy in his life.

He was glad when Chief Hank Stanley showed up just a few minutes before he had to leave. Roy suspected Joanne might have had something to do with that timing. "Hello, John… Roy… I thought I'd come sit a spell, if you don't mind."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Roy leaned back in his recliner and closed his eyes. He was tuckered after his physical therapy session. The first part wasn't so hard. His therapist, Christy Tate, had him practice donning and doffing his prosthetic leg and went over the particulars of taking care of the limb. After that, he'd stood at the parallel bars and practiced shifting his weight onto the artificial leg. Who knew just standing like that could wear a body out so? It was that good kind of exhaustion, though. Something positive to focus on during this week of sadness and struggle.

"Daddy?"

Roy opened his eyes to see DJ standing in the doorway. He hadn't seen much of the little boy over the past few days. He held out a hand and beckoned. "C'mon in, Son."

DJ didn't need to be asked twice. He scampered across the room, climbed up in his daddy's lap, and snuggled up close, his teddy bear Taco clutched in one arm. "Are you goin' back to the hopsital, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Son. Mama's getting ready to drive me over there in a few minutes, and you'll stay with Grandma Winnie. Aunt Nita's real sick. I want to be there for her and Uncle Johnny."

"I wanna go too!"

Roy lowered his head to drop a kiss on the little guy's red curls. He considered telling him about the babies, but decided to withhold that information for now — DJ would never be persuaded to wait if he knew the twins had been born, and he would only be disappointed to discover he wasn't allowed in NICU. "Aunt Nita's just sleepin' right now, buddy. I'll take you to visit when she's awake and feelin' a bit better. Can you color her a picture I could take with me? We can put it on her wall where she'll see it first thing when she wakes up."

DJ sat up straight and grinned. "Yeah! I c'n do that! Right now!" He planted a sloppy wet kiss on Roy's cheek, then jumped down and scurried out as quickly as he had come.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Matthew sighed in frustration. The whole romantic dinner he'd planned had been a disaster. He'd called Marco's cousin Rosita this morning and arranged reservations at L'Orangerie. Of course, what with the restaurant and the diamond ring, he would have to tighten the belt for several months to make up for the dent in his savings account, but he had determined to do things right. After he finished talking to Rosita, he dialed Melissa and told her to dress up for dinner and dancing.

They never got to the dancing, and the argument they'd had during dinner had only led to heartburn. Now here they were in his truck, driving back to his apartment so she could pick up her car and head back down to Camp Pendleton, and they were still arguing. He was frustrated and trying to be patient, and he knew the root of the matter for her was fear, but nothing he said seemed to help.

"We have to tell our folks, Liss. We can't just elope — I won't do that to my mom… and you know your dad will want to give his little girl away."

"Please, Matty," she pleaded. "I don't want to tell them. My dad… he'll be furious with me. You know how he raised me… more like a son than a daughter. It was bad enough for him when I chose the Marines instead of the Army… but at least I was going into the service… but this… well… I've gone against everything he taught me about right and wrong! And your parents don't even know me… they'll think I'm some kind of a —"

"Now hold it right there, honey." He glanced at her briefly, but quickly turned his attention back to the road. "I can't speak for your dad because I don't know him. But I do know my parents… yes, they're pretty old-fashioned, but they'll know it took two of us to make that baby. They may be disappointed, but they're more likely to blame me than you. And they'll come around… but it will be easier if we do things the right way starting now… and that includes telling them the truth sooner rather than later."

She met his reasoning with a prolonged silence. Waiting at a red light, he decided to try one more time. "Liss… I know you're scared, but —" He glanced over at her and noticed she had unbuckled her seat belt. "C'mon, Liss. Buckle up. Please! I've seen too many —"

"Just pull over," she demanded, cutting his protest short. "I'll walk from here."

"Melissa." But she was adamant. When the light changed, he made his turn, and was about to pull to the curb and stop when, suddenly, Liss screamed. A split second later, something slammed hard into the side of the pickup and they spun around, then stopped with a wrenching jolt when they impacted a parked car.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

When Matthew came to, he had no sense of how long he had been out, except that he didn't hear any sirens yet, so it couldn't have been too long — in this residential neighborhood at this time of night, someone was bound to have heard the accident and called it in. His ears were ringing and his head was pounding and he couldn't think straight. He tried unfastening his seatbelt, but the mechanism had jammed, and he couldn't get it off… couldn't get to Liss. She was so quiet… he'd give anything for her to start telling him off, begging him to elope… maybe he'd even give in, if she would just talk to him. "Liss?" He coughed, and pain seemed to explode in his chest, but he tried again. "C'mon Liss… talk to me, Honey." He reached gingerly across the seat to grab her hand and feel her wrist, desperate to find a pulse. Finally, he closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Her pulse was weak, but it was there.

Still grasping Melissa's wrist, he drifted off once more. When he awoke again, he was groggy and confused, and he just wanted the loud noise that had interrupted his sleep to stop. Was that construction equipment? He wasn't sure. There were voices too, lots of them. At first, he couldn't really distinguish between the voices. Everything sounded so distant, but it still made his head pound. Then he heard someone calling his name through the open window. Wait… what was he doing, sleeping in his truck anyway? And with the window open? Something wasn't right. He shifted slightly, then stopped as pain shot through his entire body. With the pain came memory. Melissa… he realized he was still holding her wrist. He could still feel her pulse… weak and thready, but beating. He clung to that knowledge as if it were a lifeline.

"C'mon, Matthew! Talk to me!"

Matt wanted to respond but speaking required too much effort. He tried turning his head toward the voice, regretting the movement immediately.

"Don't move, Matt! Wait till we get you out, pal." Captain Reilly's voice held an urgency that worried Matthew. It took a lot to unnerve the A-Shift captain.

Matt tried to blink open his eyes to get a look at his situation, but a flashlight shining into the cab of the truck pierced his head like a knife and he closed them again. He finally got his mouth to cooperate. "'M… OK, Cap. Get… Liss," he mumbled.

He must have slept again, because the next time he awoke, he was flat on his back, strapped to a backboard, and Mitch Dwyer was forcing his left eye open and flicking his penlight back and forth. Matthew hated the feeling of being strapped down. The backboard made breathing difficult and it was incredibly uncomfortable. The stabbing light just made things worse.

"Hey!" Matt tried to swing an arm at Mitch and knock the obnoxious implement away, but he had been immobilized. He darted his eyes around, desperate for a sight of Melissa. "Liss… where…"

Mitch put his penlight away and patted Matthew's shoulder. "She's already on the way to the hospital, Matt. Don't worry about her. I need you to tell me where you hurt."

"Ev'rywhere." But Matt knew he needed to give a more specific response, so he mentally cataloged his symptoms. "Chest… when I breathe… an' m' head's poundin'... an'... m' left arm."

Mitch nodded slowly, then picked up the handset for the biophone. Matthew tried to listen as he relayed the information to someone on the other end, but staying conscious was a battle he didn't have the energy to fight. His eyes gradually drifted shut.

The next time he woke up was in the ambulance. Mitch was shaking his shoulder, talking at him. "Shut up," he mumbled, his words muffled by the oxygen mask. "Lemme sleep."

But Mitch was insistent. "C'mon, Monk. You've gotta stay awake for me now."

A sudden worry struck Matthew, causing him to wake fully. The baby… no one knew about the baby but him and Liss. Had she been able to tell them that she was pregnant? He managed to work his right arm free of the strap so he could pull off the oxygen mask. Mitch tried to stop him, but Matthew grabbed his arm and grasped it firmly. "Liss… she's pregnant. You gotta let 'em know, Mitch."

His gaze and Mitch's met then, and he was struck by the deep sorrow in his friend's eyes. He wasn't ready to face what that expression might mean. "Go on, Mitch! Call Rampart!"

"Yeah. OK. I'll call 'em. Just settle down and keep that mask on." Mitch reached for the biophone and put in the call to the hospital. Meanwhile, Matt closed his eyes and breathed out a silent prayer for the girl he loved.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Dixie hung up the phone after taking the new call from Mitch Dwyer. He was in the ambulance, coming in with Matthew Carter. The likable young paramedic had been in and out of consciousness ever since they'd pulled him from the wreckage of his pickup truck. He was confused, but that was to be expected, and all things considered, his vitals were pretty good. The outlook was not as bright for his passenger, who was currently in a treatment room with Kel Brackett. Apparently, she had not been wearing her seatbelt at the moment of the collision, and she had cracked her head hard against the windshield. And now, it seemed, she was pregnant too.

With a sad shake of her head, Dixie hurried to Treatment 2 and stepped inside. "Kel… Matt Carter says she's pregnant."

"Damn." Kel shook his head sadly as he stepped away from the light box, where he had been looking over the young woman's x-rays. "Her chances aren't good, Dix. But we'll get her upstairs for a CT scan. Have you been able to contact her next of kin?"

"Not yet." Dixie frowned. "Marco Lopez brought her purse in from the wreck, and I contacted Pendleton, where she's stationed. Apparently, she listed Matthew Carter as her next of kin. They were both in the accident; he's on the way in with Mitch Dwyer. I called his father as soon as I knew he was injured."

"Matthew Carter is her next of kin?"

Kel couldn't hide his surprise from Dixie. She knew he wasn't the most observant of men, but she had to admit she had felt the same way when PFC Sinclair's sergeant had given her the information. If the paramedic his station-mates had nicknamed "Monk" was in a serious enough relationship to have a pregnant girlfriend, surely the hospital grapevine would have been buzzing about it long before this.

"Next of kin in the military is usually reserved for spouses, parents, or children," Kel observed. "Did Carter get married and not tell anyone?"

Dixie reached in the pocket of her uniform and pulled out the ring box that she had found in the purse. She had put it aside for safekeeping, intending to hand it over to Matthew or his parents. Now she held it up for Kel to see and opened it, displaying a diamond engagement ring. "I don't think they were married yet, but I think he must have asked her."

Kel scratched his chin. "She wasn't wearing it, which means she apparently hadn't accepted yet. And with the injuries she sustained, I'm very afraid we may lose her, Dix."

Usually, Dixie was able to keep herself detached when a patient came in with a bad prognosis. But now she felt her eyes growing moist. "It's too much, Kel. First Nita… and now Matthew's hurt and he may lose his young lady…" She gazed up at him and blinked back tears. She could see the hurt in his eyes, too. She wasn't quite ready to admit it, but she would have welcomed his arms coming around her, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. But she knew there wasn't time for that. The young Marine on the table was at the losing end of the game, but Kel wasn't about to let her or her baby go without a fight.

He returned to his work, and Dixie moved to his side to help however she could. "Did you hear what happened to the guy who hit them?" he asked.

Dixie narrowed her eyes. "Died at the scene, so Marco said. Some drunk who stole a delivery van and took it for a joyride."

Kel scowled as he bent over his patient. "Can't say I'm sorry." He motioned for the orderly who was standing by, waiting to take Melissa up for her CT scan. Working together, they transferred her onto a gurney.

As they watched her wheeled from the treatment room, Dixie's hand found its way into Kel's. "Neither am I, Kel," she said softly. "God forgive me, neither am I."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Notes**

***I had a hard time finding information about the process of organ procurement before the United Network for Organ Sharing was established. Before UNOS, there existed the SEOPF, South Eastern Organ Procurement Foundation, which was launched in 1982, but did not extend to the West Coast. UNOS was incorporated in March 1984, just a couple of months after my story takes place. I do not know what process was followed in California before UNOS, so I have exercised a bit of license here.**

****Nowadays, a living donor can offer a liver to someone in need of a transplant. The divided liver will grow back to normal size in both the donor and the recipient. The first living donor liver transplant was performed in November 1989, too late to be a part of this story.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Thank you for your patience, wonderful readers! I've had a busy few months since I last posted (two big road trips, plus lots of babysitting the grands!). And then there's that pesky little problem they call "writer's block." Yeah, it hit me big time. I knew basically where I wanted this chapter to go, but agonized over how to get it there. I wrote and rewrote and then rewrote again, but nothing clicked. The characters seemed bound and determined to go a different way than I had mapped out for them. Finally, a good talk with Piscean6724 and some RP with katbybee got me (and the chapter) back on track, so here's a shout-out to my awesome beta readers!**

**In this chapter, we hear from katbybee's characters Taffy Matthews and Andy Carter (son of Carter from Hogan's Heroes and father to my Matthew Carter). Thank you, kat, for lending me these good friends and for writing their bits in this story! The next chapter will get us back to Johnny and Nita and the babies. This one just got too long for me to include anything more!**

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

Dixie breathed out a heavy sigh as she ran a warm wet washcloth along Melissa Sinclair's right arm, gently removing a few stubborn specks of dried blood. Officially, she was off duty, her shift having ended at seven a.m., but she couldn't bring herself to go home yet. Instead, she found herself drawn to this room. She knew rule number one backwards and forwards — don't get emotionally involved — but she couldn't help it. She cared about Matthew Carter, just as she did Johnny and Roy, and clearly Melissa was important to Matthew. He wasn't able to be with her right now, and Dixie didn't want her to be alone.

Melissa's prognosis wasn't good. She had undergone emergency surgery during the night, but so far, nothing had changed. Thanks to the various machines she was connected to, her heart continued to beat and her lungs to fill with air, but each moment that ticked by without her regaining consciousness or responding in any way to outside stimuli only seemed to underscore that there could be no positive outcome for her. Dixie knew the odds were against her. But she couldn't help thinking about all the patients she had seen beat the odds.

"Well, I'm going to hold on to hope," she whispered, and she patted Melissa's hand. "And you're going to keep fighting, right?" Some might scoff. What point was there in talking to a woman who was most likely brain dead? Dixie didn't care. She couldn't help feeling that Melissa's spirit hovered near, waiting for the deciding moment when she would either be released or begin to wake up. And maybe — just maybe — a little special attention would help her fight her way back. She wished she could talk with Taffy about it. He could tell her whether the thought was mere wishful thinking or something solid. In any case, she found it comforting.

"I think you would have liked Taffy," Dixie said. It felt good to speak of the older Welshman, whom she had almost married the previous autumn. The hurt of their breakup had eased over the intervening months, allowing her to smile over fond memories. "He's a kind man, compassionate, always caring more about others than himself. Of course, maybe you know him, since you're close to Matthew. I would have married him in spite of his illness," she confided. "But he didn't want to be a burden to me." She noted a spot of dried blood she had missed and dipped a washcloth in a bowl of warm water on the table by the bed. As she dabbed at the spot, she continued talking. "I wonder how you answered Matthew. He's a kind man too, with a big heart." The thought brought a wistful smile to her face. "I think he would make a wonderful daddy." She wrapped her fingers around Melissa's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "You must be a pretty special young lady, for him to want to marry you. I hope we'll have the chance to get to know you."

"Still here, Nurse?"

She turned her head to see Kel standing in the doorway, still wearing his lab coat, a stethoscope draped around his neck. Her cheeks warmed as the thought flashed through her mind that even with bags under his eyes, he looked good. She quirked up an eyebrow. "Just like you, Doctor."

He shrugged. "I sacked out in my office for a few hours. I'm fine."

Dixie barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she appraised him from head to toe — his shadowed gaze, the pinched look around his eyes, the slump of his shoulders. "You're not fooling me, Kel. You need to go home as much as I do."

He didn't concede — she hadn't expected he would. Instead, he nicked his head toward the door. "Could we talk in my office? I could use your thoughts on something."

"Sure. Just give me a few minutes. I'll meet you there." She gave Melissa a pat on the shoulder and a wistful smile. "I'll be back in a bit and we can talk more." With a sideways glance toward the door to make sure Kel wasn't lingering, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm sure you want the whole scoop on your handsome doctor." After depositing the used washcloths in the laundry bin by the nurses' station, she hurried out of the room and down to Kel's office.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Marco Lopez sat beside Matthew Carter's bed, his head drifting downward as his eyes sank shut. He was wiped out. He'd stayed awake through the night, following Matt from the ER to X-ray to CT scan and up to his room once he was officially admitted. The Carter family lived up in Pacific Grove and it would take them hours to get here, so Marco had requested permission to stay at Rampart and keep Matt company. Chet was more than happy to pick up some extra hours subbing for him, anyway. While logic told Marco he wasn't responsible for his friend's situation, he couldn't help feeling that if he hadn't encouraged the dinner at La Orangerie, the wreck might never have happened.

Not being family, he hadn't received a full report on Matt's condition, but he knew the paramedic's injuries were relatively minor. Matt now sported a splint on his broken left arm, which would be replaced with a cast after the swelling went down. He was on oxygen, and he had a long row of stitches on his forehead that would likely leave an impressive scar. Marco wouldn't be surprised if Matt had a concussion too, based on the damage his head had done to the window of his truck. He'd been pretty out of it throughout the night, his memory of what had happened a bit shaky, though he had hadn't wavered in his concern for Melissa. He'd been sleeping a lot, but had awakened a few times in a panic, calling for her.

Marco hadn't had an official report on her either, but he understood from Trace Morgan – A-shift's junior paramedic — that she had suffered a severe head injury. Trace was surprised she made it to the hospital alive.

"Hey, Lopez. Thanks for the call."

Marco gave his head a brisk shake, pulling his chin up and blinking his eyes. He didn't have to look to know who was coming through the door. He would know that voice anywhere. "Hey, Mike."

Stoker positioned himself at the foot of the bed and nodded toward Matt. "He going to be OK?"

"Yeah," Marco said through a gaping yawn. "They're keeping him under observation for a couple days, and I bet he'll need some therapy on that arm after the cast comes off, but he'll be OK."

"Hey… get this thing off me," came a muffled protest from behind the oxygen mask. Marco looked back to Matt to see him blinking his eyes open. At least he wasn't panicking this time. He reached with his right hand to pull the mask away from his face, but Mike stopped him.

"Leave it," he said sternly.

Matt's hand dropped away. "Yes, Cap," he slurred. His gaze roved around the room for a moment before landing on Marco. "Liss. Th' baby... OK?"

Marco hesitated briefly before answering. "I… I don't know for sure, Matt."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Everything hurt. And yet when Matt saw that hesitation on Marco's face and the shadow in his eyes that told him things were really bad, it all went numb. He stared at Marco for a long moment, trying to process everything, willing time to turn back so he could fix the mess he'd made. But of course, that was impossible. Time didn't turn back. Melissa was going to die and the baby too. He couldn't just lie here — he needed to be with them! He reached for his oxygen mask again, pushing Marco's hand away when it tried to stop him this time. "Get away, Marco!"

"Matt, you're not thinking straight." Marco held him down, his touch firm but gentle. "You shouldn't get up."

"Leave him be, Marco. Let me talk with him."

Matt had expected Cap to be hard-nosed, so the show of support surprised him. He stopped straining against Marco's grip, willing to listen… at least for a minute.

"All right, Mike." Marco relented, backing off to make room for Stoker. "I'll go let Nurse Evans know he's awake."

"Thanks, Marco." As Lopez left the room, Cap settled into the chair by the bed. "I get it, Carter. You might not have another chance to say goodbye. As long as your doc clears it, I'll take you up to ICU myself. I'm not in a hurry to go anywhere — Beth is chaperoning the boys on a school trip to San Diego, so I have the whole day to myself."

"No need to waste your day off on me," Matt grumbled. He hated feeling like a burden. "A nurse can take me up." He caught the worried look on Cap's face and made a vain attempt to brighten his tone. "I'm fine… really."

Cap drew his lips together into a thin line and his tone hardened. "Cut it out, Carter. I wouldn't have come if I considered it a waste of time. You're one of my men and you're hurt. This is where I want to be."

"And you're my friend," Marco said as he came back through the door and stood by the bed. "This whole thing is lousy, Matt, and I'm sorry you have to be here, but I'm glad I was able to stay with you. Dr. Early will be here in a few minutes." He grabbed his jacket from where it was folded by the sink and pulled it on. "Listen — I've got a couple errands to run and I need to get some sleep, but I'll be back later to see how you're doing. Your folks should be here pretty soon."

Matt shrugged. "Suit yourself." He shifted his gaze to the window and stared up at the grey January sky. It was easier than seeing the hurt and concern in the eyes of his friends.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"Earth to Kel..."

Kelly Brackett glanced up from the file he'd been studying, surprised to see Dixie sitting across from him. Though he'd been expecting her, he hadn't heard her come in the door. He lay the file on the desk and slid it across to her. "I may have found the answer for Nita."

Dixie opened the file folder and glanced down at the first page, then back up at Kel, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead. "Melissa Sinclair?" She shook her head. "No, Kel. You can't."

Kel leaned forward, prepared to make his case. "There has to be some way to make sense of all this, Dix – some purpose behind it. She's the right blood type… they're about the same weight… and according to the information the medical officer at Pendleton sent over, she was in excellent health before she ended up here. Her records also indicate her willingness to be an organ donor."

"You're grasping at straws, Kel." Her wide eyes held him captive in her frank gaze. "But I don't have to remind you to consider the ethics. You're Melissa's doctor and you're Nita's doctor, not to mention a good friend of the Gages. That's a huge conflict of interest. You cannot be the one to make this decision and you certainly can't bring up the possibility to Matthew."

"I've already considered that. Take a look at that file again, second page." Kel pointed to the manila folder where Dixie had laid it on the desk, and she picked it up again.

Her forehead wrinkled once more, and she looked up at him, clearly puzzled. "Dr. Felix Manning? He doesn't practice here."

_Damn, but she's gorgeous. _His arms ached to hold her the way he used to. Instead he picked up a pen from the desk and absently twirled it as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, he should, but Harbor managed to snag him first. He's their new head of Neurology and has a crackerjack reputation. He's a recent transplant with no connections yet to me or to anyone in the paramedic program. He has privileges here at Rampart. I've called him in to take over Melissa Sinclair's case. If there's a chance for her, he'll find it. If not, he can give an unbiased decision about whether and when to pronounce brain death, and he can discuss donation with Matthew. He'll be here at 9:30. Nurse Madsen is lined up to assist."

Dixie drew her lips together into a firm line. When she leaned toward him and looked him in the eye, Kel felt his heartbeat accelerate. "Listen to me, Kel. I know exactly what's going on here."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do, huh?"

She nodded, eyes flashing. "Yes, I do. Control. You hate giving it up and yet you know you don't have it here to begin with. You'd never admit it, but I know it just about killed you, calling in Valdez for Nita, but you did it because you knew it was necessary." Her tone rose in pitch and her words tumbled out, full of passion. "And now Melissa comes in and you don't see how you can save her, so you've called in another doctor but you're still trying to keep some control. But you're also giving up hope and I've never known you to do that! Let the control go, Kel, but please hang on to that hope. Remember Debbie Taylor? That talk we had at the base station when it didn't look like medicine would be enough to save her? Well, maybe Melissa has reached that point where medicine stops and something much bigger takes over. You've got to believe she has a chance."

Kel sat, staring at Dixie in stunned silence. Part of him wanted to argue, but she was right. He remembered Debbie Taylor – her case bore eerie similarities to Melissa's, though she'd been a young child when a drunk driver hit her mother's car, leaving her with a severe head injury. For several days, her life had hung in the balance, but she'd made it. She'd had to work hard for her recovery, but recover she did, and recently she'd earned a full-ride academic scholarship to UCLA. Brackett glanced at the east wall of his office, which was papered in brightly colored pictures from children he'd helped over the years. Debbie's had always been one of his favorites, with its abundance of pink and purple flowers and wobbly blue letters inside a heart. "THNAK YOU DOCTR KEL I LOV YOU!" His gaze traveled from the childish drawing to the photograph he'd recently pinned next to it, showing Debbie in her graduation cap and gown, a smile stretching from ear to ear, her proud parents on either side of her. If only things could work out so well for Melissa. He looked back at Dixie with a sheepish grin and reached to cover her hand with his. "You promised then to be my constant reminder, and you still are. Dixie, I…" But he let the words fade, leaving the thought unfinished.

"What, Kel?"

He remained captive to her gaze as he wrestled with all that he wanted to say to her. But he was a professional. He needed to focus on the patient, not the nurse or his own feelings. Besides, he had made a promise — he would wait until she was ready, let her make the first move. He patted her hand, then pulled back. "Don't ever stop reminding me, OK? I'm trying to hope, but I've seen the brain scans. Melissa's worse off than Debbie was. For her to survive would take…" His voice broke off again.

"A miracle," Dixie said, her voice quiet but firm. She cupped Kel's cheek in one hand and her encouraging smile warmed his heart. "We've seen those before haven't we? God always has a choice, Kel. You told me that… after you and Joe reattached Helen Kamide's arm. Everyone thought you were crazy for trying — even Joe and I — but you were so determined, you made us believe it was possible. And you were right. Don't give up."

He gave a slow nod as he absorbed her words. "Like I said, Dix, I'm trying. I want Melissa to have her best chance, and I believe that's what Dr. Manning can give her. Now… I understand if you don't want to go home yet but please promise you'll get some rest. The on-call room is free at the moment."

"Soon, Kel. I promise. After Matt's dad gets here. Right now, I —"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He waggled his eyebrows, but his grin was forced. "Go on, Nurse, get outta here. There's a young lady waiting for you up in ICU."

After Dixie left his office, gently closing the door behind her, Kel settled back in his chair and stared out the window, lost in thought. He wanted to share Dixie's hope, but he just didn't see any chance for Melissa. With a sigh, he leaned forward again and reached for the file folder, but as he did so, the corner of an envelope caught his eye. He left the file on the desk and picked up the envelope instead. He had read the letter it held when it arrived a couple of days before. He slid the crisp page out of the envelope and looked at the postscript to find a telephone number.

Logic told him it was crazy, calling an elderly, ailing chaplain for advice. Dismissing logic, he shook his head and dialed the number nonetheless. He craved the older man's wisdom the way parched earth craves rain.

The phone rang a few times before a man with a thick French accent answered. "Allô!"

"Hello. May I please speak with Taffy Matthews?" Kel asked.

The voice on the other end asked him to wait just a minute, so Kel smoothed out the page and began to read it again.

_Ma Belle Paix_

_Santa Barbara, CA_

_My Dear Kel:_

_I take pen in hand once again. It's a much more pleasant activity, I think, than picking up a telephone, and one may savor the words on a page much longer. Please forgive an old man for being a bit maudlin. Perhaps I have earned the right? Well, never mind that. Onward!_

_As to your questions about my health, I suppose I am about as well as can be expected. Some days are better than others. That may sound like a cliche, though I assure you it is not. Louis LeBeau has seen to my every need, and you need have no fear that I am overdoing anything. The estate is lovely and I am even beginning to take advantage of some of its amenities. Believe it or not, there is an Olympic-sized swimming pool here, of which I have availed myself twice! Louis is threatening to get me out on the tennis court, but I have so far evaded that activity handily, and I am not sure that he actually means it. We enjoy a glass of his (very) private label wine most evenings when he is here, so I must say all things being equal, I am content._

_I can't begin to describe the happy chaos that was Christmas. The entire Carter clan was here. They respected Louis' wishes and left me mostly alone, though I did join them for Christmas dinner and some of the children managed to sneak their way past their parents for a story or two. I didn't mind and they are good children, if a bit rambunctious. With genetics like theirs, what choice do they have? Newkirk popped in for a day or two, and he, Andrew, Louis, and I had a nice reunion. They all stayed for the holidays, and Louis and Andrew arranged a beautiful fireworks show on New Year's Eve. It was truly spectacular!_

_I must admit though, I am more interested in what is happening in your life, Kel, than what is happening in my own. I can't help thinking about Dixie. I do miss her, but as I told you, I still feel I did the right thing. So, my question to you is, what are you waiting for? You admitted in your last letter how much you love her. You know that she is gun-shy, so to speak, nearly to the extreme. You, my friend, are definitely going to have to make the first move, but gently._

_Besides, you need to think about this: You've told me you feel she is the only woman in the world for you. What if she decides the pain of her memories is just too much for her to bear? What if she simply decides to walk away? Don't tell me she would never do that, Kel. You nearly did._

"I nearly did," he murmured in agreement, thinking back to his flight to Washington, D.C. and the visit with his good friends Denny and Lydia Schwartz. Just the possibility of losing Dixie to another man had sent him into a tailspin and he had fled. He read over the last two paragraphs again, wishing he had some progress to report in a response. Soon, the slightly breathless but very familiar voice of the letter's author came over the line. "Hello, may I help you?"

Kel laid the missive back on the desk. "Hello, Taffy." He rubbed at the back of his neck, working at a knotted muscle. "It's Kel Brackett. I hope you don't mind me calling — I know you said you prefer writing, but…" Kel shook his head. He was rambling, not something he was noted for, but a side-effect of him feeling suddenly awkward.

"Kel! Of course, I don't mind! It's good to hear from you, me boy! What's brought about this momentous occasion?" Taffy's tone was expectant. Kel knew he was a shrewd man — he had to have guessed that a busy emergency room doctor wouldn't pick up the phone without good reason.

He switched the receiver to his other ear and shifted slightly in his seat. "I could use your wise counsel, Taffy. I… um… don't suppose Andy Carter took the time to call his father-in-law with the news from last night."

"Not that I've been made aware, Kel. Why? What's happened?" In his mind's eye, Kel could see Taffy suddenly sitting up straight, concerned and alert at the prospect of bad news.

"Matthew was injured in a car wreck. He's going to be all right, but his… um… good friend was badly injured. She's not expected to survive."

Taffy was silent for a few moments. Kel could practically see — well, hear — the wheels turning as he processed this information. No doubt he was parsing out Kel's precise meaning. After all, he hadn't spent all those years as a military chaplain without being a very quick study. "I assume this… friend… is someone he is… extremely close to?"

Kel ran a hand across his face, briefly considering how much he was at liberty to say. He finally settled on complete openness. Through their correspondence over the last few months, he had begun to see Taffy not only as a chaplain but as _his _chaplain, and he knew the man would keep anything he said confidential. "As far as we know, yes. We haven't had a chance to ask him yet, but she was carrying an engagement ring inscribed with their initials. And Taffy… she was expecting. The baby didn't make it."

There was silence on the other end for a moment and then a softly breathed, "Oh, dear God in Heaven. History repeats itself. How very strange."

Brackett's brow wrinkled. "History, Taffy?"

"I'm sorry, Kel, I was just startled. It is Andrew's story to tell if he so chooses, but he will not object if I speak of it in broad terms to help his grandson."

"Whatever you think will help, Taffy." Kel's feelings of awkwardness had all but faded. He would have preferred to sit down face to face with Taffy, but even over the phone line, that Welsh lilt had a calming effect.

"When the Colonel was quite young, first in the Army, he made some decisions regarding a young woman that almost cost him his career. In fact, they caused him to be grounded for the first part of the war. Kel, please encourage Matthew to talk with his grandfather — I can promise the Colonel will be far more understanding than he expects."*

"Thank you, Taffy. I'll be talking with him when we're done here, and I will give him that message." He sighed heavily, reluctant to end the call while he had so much more on his mind.

"Kel," said the quiet voice on the other end of the line, "let me help you sort things out. You have been much on my mind lately. You know you've become one of my boys. What is it?"

Brackett smirked. He should have known Taffy would realize there was more to it without him saying anything. "I'm afraid it only gets more complicated, Taffy. John Gage's wife, Nita — I believe you met her. She was brought in about a week ago with complications from toxemia. We had to take the babies by cesarean section, but she suffered a ruptured liver and now requires a transplant if she's going to survive."

A long moment of shocked silence met this information. "Oh, Kel. I'm sorry to hear that. That young family has had more than their share of trouble, as have their friends."

"She's the same blood type as Melissa — Matt's friend. And I got to thinking, well, maybe it was God's way of making sense out of the whole damn situation, but Dixie called me on it. I mean, I'm her doctor, for crying out loud. I'm supposed to be working on saving her… not planning out what to do after she dies. But then, I'm Nita's doctor too. I don't know what to think. Taffy… was it wrong of me to let my thoughts go that direction?"

"No, Kel. It wasn't wrong." Just five simple words. And yet they washed over Kel, filling him with a sense of absolution and relief. He lowered his head and closed his eyes as Taffy continued. "Not wrong at all. If Melissa does not survive, perhaps she will be a part of someone's miracle, whether Nita's or somebody else's. We must simply place her in God's hands. It's the best place for her to be. God always knows what He's doing, even if we can't figure it out, even if we don't necessarily agree with Him. We can always, always trust Him. But that doesn't mean it's easy to do, Kel. I've had a hard time with that meself lately. Rest assured, we will pray for Nita and her wee bairns. And for Matthew and for John… Perhaps it sounds like a tall order, but for a God who keeps the whole universe balanced with such ease? 'Tis but child's play to the Creator. We must simply have faith." Taffy chuckled, and Kel noted that his voice had grown hoarser. "Och, an' here I promised meself I wouldna preach at ya." As his accent thickened, Kel knew he needed a rest.

"I don't mind." Kel sat now with one elbow on his desk, forehead propped on his hand. "Taffy… will you pray for me too? I'm not sure… actually, I know I don't... have a faith like yours. I mean… I believe in God. I've seen too many miracles not to. But… well… I think He's more likely to hear your prayers than mine."

Taffy's warm chuckle proved a great comfort. "Ahh, but that's where you're wrong, Kel. He hears every prayer from his children. Yours as well as mine. He shows no favoritism, no matter what those with their fancy robes and rituals might want you to believe. God knows your heart. Talk to him… tell him what's on your mind. And He will hear and understand and comfort. That much I can promise you. His answers aren't always immediate or easy or even what we are looking for… but He will comfort and He will give strength." Kel fancied he could hear a smile in that raspy voice. "I've been a little closer to Heaven lately, as you might well imagine, lad. And it's good. It's a very good place to be. Don't worry, me boy. I'm just fine. You take care of Dixie and of those patients of yours. And yes… I truly have been thinking about you… I pray for you and all my boys every day, Dr. Brackett."

"Thank you." A soft smile lit Kel's face. "I mean it, Taffy. Oh… and thanks for the letter, too. I'll write back when I can."

"I know you will. If you need anything more from me, call me. And please, tell Matthew to come see me if he needs me…" He coughed, and Kel could hear the effort it took to catch his breath. "I'm afraid I must go now. Remember to take care of yourself in all of this. I miss all of you."

"We miss you too. Goodbye, Taffy. Take care."

"Until we meet again." And the chaplain hung up without another word.

Kel gently lowered the handset into its base and sat stock-still for a long moment before he pushed his chair back and stood up to begin pacing a circuit around his office. _Anyone walks in, they'll think I've finally lost it, _he thought, but he didn't let it stop him. "All right, God, Taffy says you're there and listening, so here I am, taking his advice and talking to you. Dixie's right — I hate feeling out of control and that's exactly where I am right now. I want to save both Nita and Melissa and I don't see how that's possible. Look, God, I don't have a faith like Taffy's. Mostly I've always had faith in my own two hands and my brain and my years of training. But I admit those just aren't enough right now. So I guess I'm just asking… please keep Melissa and Nita in your hands." He opened his eyes and gazed down at his own hands, turning them over and studying them carefully. He'd started his prayer haltingly, but now the words seemed to flow from him on their own. "And guide my hands and all the other hands involved in caring for them. Be with their families and friends and everyone who cares about them. God, please let them live… but if you don't, well… please give us that comfort Taffy was talking about."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"You know, Kel Brackett's a good man, one of the best," Dixie confided in a soft voice as she massaged Melissa's hands. "Of course, I might be a little biased. We were an item once… could be again if I said the word." She shrugged up a shoulder and gave a wistful smile. "Some days I want to… I've come so close… but then I think of Adam and Taffy and I just don't want to take that risk again."

"Ahem."

Dixie's eyes flew to the door at the sound of Kel clearing his throat. He stood there, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. Something had changed since they talked in his office. Most telling was the grin that actually reached his eyes. He seemed relaxed, and his shoulders were no longer slumped, as if the weight of all that stress he'd been carrying had been lifted from him. _He looks for all the world like the cat that swallowed the canary, _she thought, and she could feel her cheeks starting to burn. Surely, he hadn't heard her, had he? She couldn't ask without rousing suspicion.

If he had heard, he didn't let on. Instead, he slapped the doorframe and grinned. "Dix, you were exactly right. I do crave control. But I'm giving it up and putting them both in God's hands. And ya know…" He let out a soft chuckle. "I'm actually feeling pretty hopeful right about now."

She crossed the room and took his hands in hers. On a whim, she stretched slightly to give him a quick peck on the cheek before locking eyes with him. "Good, Kel. I'm glad."

He returned the kiss, then squeezed her hands. "Joe's checking Matt out now, then he'll send him up to visit Melissa. I'm going to talk with him before he comes in. Want to join me?" He quirked up an eyebrow. "He could probably use a little Dixie-style TLC."

"Of course, Doctor." Dixie caught in her breath when she realized she was still holding Kel's hands. Pulling free, she stepped backwards, silently willing the room to stop spinning. She spun around and busied herself gathering up her purse and jacket, then turned back to see him standing there with a bemused grin. "I'll… be ready in a moment," she stammered, and then sidled past him and hurried down the hall toward the ladies' room.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

As Kel watched Dixie scurry away, his fingers moved to rest on his cheek where she had kissed it. Perhaps he would have some progress to report in his next letter to Taffy after all. He wished he could have heard what she was saying to Melissa, but he could guess, considering his arrival had caused her face to turn beet red. Well, he'd let her wonder for now. When things settled down around here, he was definitely asking her out to dinner.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Andy Carter must have broken more than a few speed laws getting to Rampart, considering he lived about a six hour drive from Carson on a clear night; he'd made it in just over seven driving through the thick tule fog that had settled over a long stretch of the Central Valley. A typical Carter, all Andy cared about was his child… no matter how old his son got to be, he would always be his child. And his child was hurt. Only the image of his own father's gimlet-eyed expression if he had pushed things that far kept him from parking directly in the ambulance bay itself. Andy found the closest spot he could and barreled through the ER door at top speed, nearly colliding with an orderly in the process.

He tossed the man a hasty apology as his eyes darted about, searching for the reception desk, unmindful of the fact that he was wearing jeans, combat boots, and an oily Grateful Dead t-shirt. A dirty, unbuttoned blue plaid flannel shirt pushed up on his forearms completed his attire. His face was smudged, and his hair stood up in all directions. He often tinkered with the 1967 Mustang Notchback he was rebuilding when he fought insomnia. Last night, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, he had made his trek out to the garage. He had been under the car when he got the call from Dixie McCall around midnight. Yvette and Celia were out of town or they would have piled into the car with him for the long, stressful drive.

The reception nurse was a slender grey-headed woman, her white cap perched atop her permed hair. As Andy approached, the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile, which she quickly suppressed. He ran a grubby hand through his hair as he stopped in front of the desk, suddenly realizing he must look like a wreck. Unfortunately, he only managed to make the situation worse, streaking his blond hair with black grease. "Sorry… I - I was… busy. Where's Matthew Carter? How is he? Is he okay? I'm his father, Andy Carter. Are you Dix —" Just then, his eyes lit on her nametag: _Eudora Hanes, RN. "_Oh… sorry." He broke off with a sheepish grin that was the spitting image of his father's.

Nurse Hanes returned his smile with one of her own. Andy was pretty sure she intended it to put him at ease, but nothing would accomplish that until he had seen for himself that his son was all right.

"Don't worry, Mr. Carter," she said, her eyes sparkling with gentle good humor. "I've seen a lot worse come through those doors over the years. Let me check the computer and I'll find your son for you." A moment later she looked up and met his gaze again. "He has been admitted and he's in Room 253. There's a note here that I should let Dixie know when you arrive — she'd like to talk with you before you go up." As she picked up the telephone handset, she nodded toward a nearby bank of chairs. "Have a seat and I'll have her called down."

"Thank you, Ma'am." With a tired nod, Andy moved toward the chairs, but he didn't sit. In spite of his sleepless night, he had too much nervous energy to stay in one place. Instead he paced the perimeter of the room, thankful that it seemed to be a quiet morning, at least in this part of the hospital.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

By the time Dr. Early arrived to check his vitals, Matthew was just about ready to rip out the IV and make his own way upstairs. But he knew he would never get past Captain Stoker, so he didn't try. At last he had the necessary permission and a pair of nurses arrived to help him into a wheelchair. The whole process was incredibly painful, but Matt had determined that he wasn't going to show it. He didn't want to give the doctor any reason to change his mind, so he gritted his teeth and willed his face into a stoic mask.

"You OK, Matt?" Cap's hand patted his shoulder.

"Yeah." He barked out the single syllable, conserving his energy for when he was with Melissa. The nurse situated a nasal cannula to replace his oxygen mask and strapped the portable oxygen tank to the back of his wheelchair. At last, and none too soon, they were on their way upstairs to ICU.

Dr. Brackett and Dixie met them as they exited the elevator. "Matt, I need to speak with you before you go in."

Matt frowned. He didn't want any delays, but he couldn't argue with Dr. Brackett any more than he would Captain Stoker. "Yessir?"

"Let's go over there where we can have some privacy." Brackett gestured past a small cluster of people to a bank of unused chairs in the far corner of the room.

"I know you're in a hurry, Matt," he began as soon as they were situated, "but we should talk before you see Melissa."

Matt frowned. "Marco said it didn't look good."

Brackett was quiet for a moment, but Matt could see his cheek twitching, a sure sign he was considering his answer carefully. "No, Matt. It doesn't. Melissa has suffered a severe brain injury. But…" He paused and glanced at Dixie. "Well, I want to encourage you to hold on to hope. I've called in an excellent neurologist for a consult and —"

"But _you're _her doctor," Matt protested, eyes flashing. He wasn't sure why the idea of another doctor bothered him so much — calling a specialist for a consult was routine, after all — but it rubbed him the wrong way.

Dixie reached for his hand. "Just listen to him, Matt," she urged gently. "You know he's doing his very best for Melissa"

"Matt, I promise you," Brackett continued, "I will still be her doctor. But if we have access to one of the country's top neurologists, don't you think we should take advantage of that?"

"I suppose you're ri —" Matt's grudging admission was cut off by the crackle of the intercom and a voice summoning Dixie to the lobby.

Dixie stood, but before leaving she reached in her pocket and pulled out a small velvet ring box. She pressed it into Matt's hand. "Keep this, Matt. And keep hoping for the day you see it on her finger." She kissed the top of his head and then hurried away.

Matt thumbed the box open and stared at the ring inside. "Go on, Doc. I'm listening."

Brackett continued. "Dr. Manning will be here about 9:00 to examine Melissa. After that, we'll come discuss her prognosis with you so that you can make decisions regarding her care."

Matt held up a hand. "Wait. Stop a minute. What do you mean, decisions? Why would I need to make any decisions?" The relentless throbbing in his head had intensified. He clenched his teeth, determined to hide that he was in pain.

Brackett's cheek twitched again and his eyes narrowed. "Then… you didn't know that Melissa Sinclair had listed you as her next of kin?"

"No." Matt gave his head a slight shake and immediately regretted it. Now his head felt as if someone was going at him with a jackhammer. "I had no idea. Did you call her dad? He's all the family she's got."

Brackett sighed. "Someone from Pendleton is trying to get word to him. Apparently, he's stationed overseas and is hard to get hold of. Perhaps that's why she chose you — still, it's odd that she didn't tell you."

"But what would I need to decide? And why does she need this other doctor?"

"Matt..." Dr. Brackett lay a hand on his arm. "The long and short of it is that Dr. Manning is Melissa's best hope right now. I've read some of the papers he's authored, and he has far more experience with injuries like hers than I do. Now, I need you to answer a question for me. At the accident scene, you informed Mitch that Melissa was pregnant. We confirmed this, placing her at approximately six to seven weeks. I have to ask, Matt — are you the father?"

Matt felt his eyes filling with tears and he blinked hard. He wouldn't let them spill over… he couldn't. Not in front of Brackett! "Yes." He almost choked on the word. "We were talking about getting married and..." _Damn._ A tear had escaped and was tracking its way down his cheek. Rubbing it away, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Captain Stoker's hand gripped his shoulder a little tighter. Dr. Brackett kept silent, his hand heavy on Matt's arm, until he had opened his eyes again. "I'm OK. Go on."

The doctor nodded, then continued, his voice low and soft and full of compassion. "The baby survived the initial trauma but didn't make it through Melissa's surgery. I am so very sorry, Matthew."

"Yeah… me too." Matt wasn't sure what else to say. He was desperate to get out of this room. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him. "Can… can I go sit with her now?"

Matt's response came in a dull monotone. "I know. Thanks, Doc." If he weren't hurting so much, he might have argued for more time, but he knew he needed to lie down again soon. He looked up at Stoker, who had kept quiet throughout the entire discussion. "Let's go, Cap. I'm ready."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Kel watched as Mike Stoker wheeled Matt out of the waiting area. He hadn't yet passed along Taffy's message because he wasn't quite sure how to do it. He was reluctant to let Matthew know he'd been talking with Taffy about the situation, which limited what he could say. Still, he needed to get the message across somehow. "Wait," he finally called out. He strode across the room and stopped right outside the door to Melissa's room. "Matt, listen, I know it may seem hard to do, but you need to talk with your parents… or maybe the Colonel… about all of this. I've got a hunch they'll understand better than you expect."

Matt stared at him, brow furrowed, for a long silent moment. The words _Mind your own business _didn't come out of his mouth, but they sure were evident in his icy glare. Instead he just said, "I'll think about it, Doc. Thanks."

"Good." Kel chose to ignore Matt's hostility. He knew the young man had a mild concussion, which would certainly affect his moods. He could also see that Matt was in pain. He was doing an admirable job of hiding it, but Kel had noticed how he kept his jaw clenched most of the time they'd been talking and how he winced whenever he moved his head too much. "Go on now… your young lady is waiting for you." Then he looked at Mike. "Ten minutes, no more. He needs to get in bed and take some pain meds."

Matt didn't respond, but Mike nodded his understanding, then pushed the wheelchair on into Melissa's room.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Melissa looked so fragile lying there, her head swathed in bandages, machines regulating her heartbeat and her breathing. Matt was thankful for the bandages - they concealed the evidence that her beautiful red hair had almost certainly been shaved off before her surgery. She had always hated her hair color, but Matthew loved it. At camp, back when they first met, the other kids had teased her for it. In fact, that was what first got Matthew to notice her. Freddy Morris was following her around, jeering and calling her "Carrot Top." Just about the time Matthew was ready to step in and defend her from the older boy, she'd turned around and doubled up her fists. "You better knock it off, Freddy!" she'd demanded.

"Who's gonna make me, Squirt?" he'd scoffed.

Half a foot shorter and at least ten pounds lighter, Melissa could have backed off without anyone thinking less of her. Most of the kids in their grade had experience with the bully and they tended to steer clear of him. He generally left Matt alone, though, because Matt had beaten him in a wrestling match the previous summer.

Melissa stood her ground. "I fight my own battles," she'd told him. And at that point, no matter how much Matt wanted to execute a double leg takedown, he knew she would hate him forever if he didn't stay out of it.

"You would've beaten the crap outta him, too..." he mused, and he rested his hand on hers. "If that counselor hadn't stepped in and saved his ass. And I think he knew it, 'cause he never bothered you again." He chuckled wryly, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Keep fighting, Melissa, please. I need you." He picked up the ring box from his lap and set it on the table beside her bed. "I love you. I'm so sorry I argued with you. When you wake up, we'll do things however you want to." And then he just sat, gently stroking her hand with his thumb, until Stoker told him it was time to go.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Note:**

***Taffy is alluding to events in katbybee's story, _Once Bitten, _which I highly recommend. Details will be changed a bit for the purposes of this story.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you, dear readers, for your patience! My husband and I are working on a special project for NaNoWriMo this month, and it has taken most of my writing time. But this week I managed to carve out a little time for Johnny and the gang.**

**Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and review, and special thanks as always to katbybee and Piscean6724 for being awesome beta readers! You'll see more of katbybee's original character, Andy Carter, from her Hogan's Heroes stories. She helped me RP the conversation between Matt and Andy back when I was still writing _The Hard Road_ and the story of Matt and Melissa first began to take shape. I had to edit it quite a bit so it would fit the way the story has turned, but I still consider Kat a cowriter on this chapter. Thank you, Kat, for letting me bring Andy along for the ride! I thought it was just an accident that I gave Matthew the last name Carter when I first started _The Hard Road, _but I think this connection between our characters was absolutely meant to be!**

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

When Dixie stepped into the lobby, Eudora Hanes was taking a phone call, but she nicked her chin toward the man who was pacing about the small waiting area. Dixie knew right away that this was Matthew's father — even with his hair wild and streaked with grease, she could see he was the spitting image of his father, Colonel Carter, and bore more than a passing resemblance to his son as well. He seemed tense, his brow knitted in concern and most likely exhaustion, given the long drive she knew he'd just made.

"Major Carter? I'm Dixie McCall. Thank you for coming." She looked him over from head to toe, one eyebrow arching upward. "Have some car trouble on the way here?"

A slight smile flitted across his face and then quickly faded. "I was under my car when you called. Didn't bother to clean up. Where's Matt? What happened?"

"Your son is going to be fine, Major. He was in a car accident. A drunk joyrider hit his truck. He has a broken arm, a moderate concussion, a bruised sternum, and possibly a bruised lung — Dr. Early will monitor him carefully over the next 24 hours. But his…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. She wasn't sure how much Matt's dad knew about Melissa, if anything. From the rumors she'd heard already making the rounds among the other paramedics, no one had even suspected he was in a romantic relationship. "But his passenger sustained a severe head injury and had to undergo emergency surgery last night. We're not yet sure of the prognosis."

The major frowned. "His passenger? A friend from the station?"

"Her name is Melissa. There's not much more I can tell you, Major, but I do have reason to believe she is… someone pretty special to him."

He didn't respond right away, and Dixie thought she could see the moment when the puzzle pieces came together. His eyes widened for just an instant before he schooled his features back into a calm expression. "Th-thank you," he stammered. "Apparently, Matthew and I have a lot to talk about. May I see him soon?"

Dixie put a hand on Major Carter's arm. "Of course. I'll take you up to his room. He was visiting his friend in ICU when I came downstairs, but Dr. Brackett told him no more than ten minutes, so he'll be back soon."

Major Carter nodded. "Well then, lead on, Nurse McCall. And thank you for taking the time to talk with me first."

"It's Dixie," she corrected. "And it's my pleasure." She led him to the elevator and pushed the button. Once inside, she pressed the "2" and the small compartment lurched into motion.

Matt's father stood facing her. "So, Matt should be okay to return to work then?"

"Once Dr. Early gives him a clean bill of health, yes." Dixie hoped her words would ease the major's mind. "The arm will take longest to heal, and he may need some rehab, but I don't think he'll be out longer than eight to ten weeks. We're counting on him to come back — Matt's one of our best paramedics."

The disheveled father eyed Dixie, one side of his mouth lifting slightly in a wry smile. "Matt's always been the best at whatever he's done. Sometimes it's cost him. I wish I had known about this girl. I wish he'd confided in us… in me. I don't understand it. But I'm not going to push it. It's just… I'm feeling kind of out of my depth — I want to do the best thing for him, but I'm really not sure what that is."

As the elevator creaked to a stop, Dixie looked up at him. "Right now, the best thing for him is to know you're here and that you love and support him no matter what." He gestured for her to step out first, so she moved past, then turned to face him as he followed. "I can tell you love your son, Major. Let that guide you. You'll know what to say when the time comes."

"Thank you, Dixie." Major Carter stifled a yawn, then glanced around. "Is there a restroom close by? I think I'll go clean up a little bit before I see Matt. There's not much I can do about my clothes, but at least I can wash my face and comb my hair."

Dixie pointed down the corridor. "Around that corner on the left. When you're done, Matt's in room 253 — you'll come back this way, go past the elevator, and it'll be on your right, just across from the nurse's station. I'll go see if he's back and let him know you've arrived."

Major Carter reached to touch her arm before she could walk away. "Thank you, Dixie. Thank you for caring about my boy... and his friend. It means more to me than you can ever know."

Dixie's eyes misted over, but she blinked to clear them. "Major, I consider Matt family. And that makes you and Melissa family too."

Major Carter's gaze went to the floor for just a second, and then he looked up. Dixie was pleased to see that the tension she had seen in his face earlier had faded. "My father told me you all were something special here, and Matt has talked about it too. I'm glad to see they were right." With that, he turned and headed for the restroom.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

"Hey, Junior." Roy stepped into Nita's room and sat down in the empty chair next to the one where Johnny had been sitting, keeping vigil, when he wasn't in the nursery with the babies. Once Roy was settled, his crutches propped against the wall, he shrugged off the backpack Joanne had sent with him. He pushed the pack at Johnny, who had barely acknowledged his greeting with a grunt.

"Joanne sent it. There's a change of clothes in there, and I'm supposed to make sure you get a shower before you put 'em on." Johnny still hadn't looked up. Roy leaned forward and rapped him on the knee. "C'mon, Junior. I'll stay with Nita while you freshen up." Raising an eyebrow, he went for the jugular. "Ya know, Nurse Spears is gonna get one whiff of you and ban you from the nursery altogether."

Johnny straightened up at that, and Roy felt a sense of satisfaction watching his eyes spark and his fingers fly to his chest. _Rant forthcoming, _he thought. He hadn't intended to irritate his friend, but Johnny had been neglecting himself ever since Nita was brought in, and he needed a bit of prodding to get up and moving and taking care of himself again.

"Ya know what, Roy," Johnny said, and then he paused for a moment as if he'd just figured something out.

"What, Junior?" Roy kept a straight face, though he avoided his friend's eyes.

"You… well…" Johnny spluttered and then shrugged as the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "You're absolutely right. Thank Joanne for me, will you?" Slinging the backpack over one shoulder, he got to his feet. He bent over Nita and murmured something to her in Choctaw, then kissed her on the forehead. "I won't be long," he told Roy.

He stopped at the door and turned back, his eyes lighting up and a grin spreading from ear to ear. "Wait a second… you… you've got your leg!"

Roy had wondered when he'd notice. The week had been pretty crazy, what with taking over Johnny's teaching duties and attending the grueling PT sessions. Today was the first day he'd been cleared to use his new prosthetic outside of therapy, and he wasn't supposed to wear it more than a couple hours at a time. "Yeah… about a week ago. First time I've worn it out, though."

"Well, that's all right." Johnny glanced downward, then back up, his eyes glistening. "Thanks, Roy. I know this week has been hard on you too. I promise I'll make it up to you, just as soon as…" His voice wavered slightly, but Roy watched him square his shoulders and straighten up. When he spoke again, he sounded steadier. "As soon as Nita's feeling better."

Roy waved a hand. "You're family, Johnny. You know that." _And if it comes to that, Junior, _he thought, _I figure I owe you plenty._

Johnny just nodded and then hurried out the door.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

"C'mon, Matt," Mike Stoker was saying when Dixie slipped into the room. The fire captain was helping his injured paramedic out of the wheelchair and into his bed. "You need to accept the pain meds. I can see you're really hurting."

Matt narrowed his eyes as he sank back against his pillows. "It's not so bad, Cap. I can wait till I talk to that other doc."

Dixie glared at her patient as she stepped around Mike. Arms crossed, she stood at the foot of the bed, her feet planted in her I'm-not-about-to-take-any-guff stance. "I agree with your captain's assessment, Matthew. And don't think you can fool a seasoned old nurse like me." She appraised him carefully, taking in the stubborn set of his jaw. He was doing a fair job of hiding his pain, but the pinching of his eyes and the slight furrow of his brow indicated that he was hurting. She raised an eyebrow. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd say your pain is at least an eight."

When he didn't meet her eyes or argue, she knew she'd hit close to home. "Your dad is here, Matt. He'll be right in. Talk with him for a little bit and when you're done, you need to let us get some meds on board. You can talk with Dr. Manning after lunch."

Matt sighed. "Fine," he said, and the way he rolled his eyes made Dixie think of her teenage niece. She couldn't help but wonder whether that particular expression had ever gotten him in trouble with his mother.

She chose to overlook it. "All right, then. I'll let your nurse know on my way out. Now, I have a promise to keep to Dr. Brackett. I'm working another night shift, so I'll see you this evening."

"I'd better go too — give you and your dad some privacy," Mike Stoker said as he got to his feet. "Dixie, mind if I walk you out?" He offered her his arm.

"I'd be honored." Dixie slipped her hand into the crook of Stoker's elbow and the two walked out together.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

After Dixie and Captain Stoker left, Matt settled back against his pillow. He fixed his gaze on the ring box, which he had set, open, on the swivel table. After a moment, he closed his eyes and tried to pray, but his efforts quickly petered out. _Why would God listen to me anyway? _he thought, scowling.

His eyes were still closed when he heard the clump of his dad's combat boots coming through the door and crossing the room. For a moment, he considered pretending to be asleep, but Dad had never fallen for that trick before and was unlikely to start now. Reluctantly, he blinked his eyes open and sat up just as his dad was lowering himself into a chair. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Son." Dad gripped his hand and then put his arm around Matt's shoulders.

Matt shuddered slightly as Dad pulled him into a hug. He tried to keep the tears back. He'd been holding them at bay all morning. But suddenly he was a little kid again, letting all his hurt and anger and fear flow out in his daddy's arms. "She's dying, Dad," he finally said, once he could form the words. "And… it's all my fault." He leaned into the embrace.

"No, Matthew. First of all, as far as I understand, nothing is definite yet. And next, whatever happens, you are not to blame. It's the drunk who hit you guys, not you, who's at fault."

His dad's words made sense. Matt knew they were logical. But he just couldn't make himself believe them. He pulled himself free and rubbed at his aching head. "I argued with her… if I… just agreed… this wouldn't have happened."

Dad leaned forward to look him directly in the eyes. With his next words, his tone hardened. He wasn't often stern with his children, but when he was, they knew he meant business. "Son, do not fall into that trap. It makes no difference what you were talking about or where you were or what you were doing. Accidents can happen anywhere, any time. If you wallow in blame and self-recrimination, you will lose more than just Melissa. You will lose yourself. I can't think that's something Melissa would want."

"Dad… it…" Matt swallowed hard. This man's approval meant a great deal to him. But he couldn't keep this back. Not anymore. "It isn't just Melissa," he finally managed in a small voice. "It's… she's…." He stopped, unable to get the word out.

"She was going to have your child, wasn't she, Son?"

The lack of condemnation in Dad's soft-spoken words surprised Matt, who had feared his father's judgment more than he'd let on to Melissa. Perhaps he should have felt relief, but instead, it only magnified his feelings of guilt. "I'm sorry, Dad. I… made a mess of everything. And now..."

Dad pulled away from him for a moment and held him by the shoulders, looking him right in the eyes. "How exactly do you think you made a mess of everything? Tell me what you mean."

Matt hesitated briefly, uncertain how to answer. He hadn't expected the question. Wasn't it obvious? "What do you think, Dad?!" he spit out in an unexpected burst of anger. "I slept with her. I shouldn't have, but I did."

Dad didn't respond to the angry outburst in kind, though he wasn't the sort to sugarcoat things either. He gave a long, slow nod. "I agree you made a mistake." His consistent, patient tone helped restore a sense of calm in his son. He'd always had that knack. It was one of those traits that made him a great father. Now he reached over and picked up the ring box. "But it looks to me as if you were planning to propose, to commit yourself to being a husband and a father, taking responsibility for your actions. That is not a mess. You just got things a bit out of order."

"She wanted... to elope." Suddenly exhausted, as the emotions and the pain of his injuries caught up with him, Matt was conscious that his words were beginning to slur, that arranging them in a way that made sense was taking a lot more effort than usual, and it was really making his head pound. The pain in his chest was getting worse too, and he had to keep his breathing shallow, which made it harder to keep talking, but he forced himself to do it. "We argued… left the restaurant early... next thing I know, we're here. Now… baby's dead, and Lissa…" His voice faded out.

"Melissa is getting the best of care." Dad cupped Matt's cheek in his hand and stroked it gently with his thumb. "And you need to let them take care of you, too. Let me guess — you've refused pain meds, haven't you?"

Matt nodded miserably. "Wanted to see Melissa… and Dr. Brackett said… next of kin… I… hafta… make… decisions. Can't do that… on pain meds, Dad."

"You can't do it now, either, Son," Dad soothed. Matt was only vaguely aware of him pressing the call button. "You need to accept the meds and get some sleep. When you wake up, you'll feel better and will be able to talk with her doctor."

Matt no longer had the energy to fight. When the nurse came in a couple minutes later, he didn't argue about the pain meds or the oxygen mask. Given his concussion, the dosage of morphine was small, only enough to take the edge off rather than completely relieve the pain. Even so, he felt it wrapping around him, pulling him into the oblivion of sleep.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

Andy moved out of the way and watched as the nurse took Matt's vitals, asked him a few questions, and then administered the pain medication. She came across as caring and compassionate, but also efficient. She finished her work quickly, made a notation in the chart, then hurried out. Andy wished she could have spent more time with his son, but he understood that she probably had several other patients to tend to. He hoped the doctor would come soon to answer some questions. For now, though, once he was alone with Matt, he slid back into the chair by the bed. He ought to be tired, what with the sleepless night and stressful drive, but he didn't think he could sleep. He cast his gaze about and found a copy of the Los Angeles Times that he figured Captain Stoker had left behind. He picked it up and unfolded it.

He didn't notice that his eyes were tearing until the words on the page began to blur. He swiped a hand across them and blinked back the moisture, then tried to go back to reading, but soon he tossed the paper aside and leaned forward and rubbed at his temples as he examined his emotions. He hadn't had much time to think about what a baby would mean to Matthew, or to the rest of the family, but he knew Matt loved that baby. His son hurt because that life had been snuffed out. Suddenly a surge of anger washed over Andy. He was mad as hell, because some stupid, joy-riding drunk had stolen his grandchild's life. It didn't matter to Andy that he hadn't even learned of the child until after its death, or whether Matt and Melissa would have married, or what else might have happened — that baby, Matt's child, was his and Yvette's grandchild.

Andy shuddered as an old familiar pain he'd long ago shoved into the dark recesses of his memory welled up inside him. He had never spoken to his son or daughter of the brother or sister who should have held the place of middle child in their family. He saw no point in broaching such a sad topic or reminding Yvette of the miscarriage that had almost torn their family apart when Matt was only two… until now.

After a few minutes, he shook himself out of his thoughts and did the only thing he could think to do. He reached toward Matt's bed and gently grasped his son's hand. For some reason, an image, a memory, came to him of a bad storm that had hit their area when Matt was just a kid. The little boy had hated storms, and this one knocked the power out for days. Andy was on furlough at the time, so he was home when it hit. He had held Matt through it. Held him for hours. Sometimes in his lap, but mostly just held his hand. He would hold his hand through this storm, too, for however long Matt needed him.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

The call from Bakersfield came about 9:30 in the morning. Kelly Brackett took it in his office. They had a 38-year-old female, O-negative, who had suffered an aneurysm. She had been pronounced brain dead and her liver was available if still needed. Her next of kin had already signed consent. Did Kel want it? He glanced at Melissa's file and then pushed it aside with a sigh of relief. "Yes, I want it. How soon can you get it here?... Fantastic. Thank you!" As soon as he had a dial tone, he called USC and had Pete Valdez paged. Within a minute, the surgeon called him back. "Hi, Pete. Yes, we have a liver for Nita Gage. They're putting it on a life flight in Bakersfield now… we'll have it within the hour. Great… we'll see you soon… Mrs. Gage will be prepped and ready." He hung up the phone and pushed back from his desk. He had a lot to do and not much time to do it.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

Johnny stepped out of the shower and toweled off, then got himself dressed. He pulled a comb through his hair and examined himself in the mirror. In addition to the clothes, the backpack had held a razor and a can of Barbasol, and he had made good use of them before his shower. While shaving, he had noticed how pale he looked. His forehead sported some new worry-lines and he was even leaner than he had been. In his mind, he could hear Nita scolding him. "Whatever may happen to me, you have to keep living, Nashoba. You have to take care of yourself so you can take care of our babies."

"I know," he whispered fiercely as he looked in the mirror now. "I'm not sure how I'll do it, but I promise you, Nita, if I have to, I will."

He gave his hair one more swipe of the comb, then nodded approvingly at his reflection. Nita would be pleased with him. Amazing, how much good a shave and a shower could do for a man.

He decided to stop at the nursery to see the babies before heading back to ICU. Once he got to the elevator, though, a feeling he couldn't explain made him press the button for the fourth floor instead of the third. He wasn't sure if it was anticipation or if anxiety for his wife was rearing its head again, displacing the sense of calm he'd so recently achieved, but he knew he needed to be with her.

As soon as the elevator doors slid open, he stepped into the corridor and hastened toward ICU in long, purposeful strides. He was just outside Nita's cubicle when he heard Roy saying, "Her husband'll be right back. Can't you wait a minute —"

"I'm back now." Johnny stepped in to see two orderlies moving Nita onto a gurney. "What's going on?"

"We got a liver, Johnny." At the sound of Brackett's voice, Johnny swung around to see the doctor framed in the doorway. "It's on the way. So is Valdez. We have to get her prepped for surgery now. I'm sorry the orderlies beat me up here — I stopped at the on-call room to wake Dixie, since she'll never forgive me if she can't scrub in."

Johnny's shoulders sagged with relief. **"Yakoke, Chihowa,"** he breathed out. Tears gathered in his eyes and he could feel his hands starting to tremble. He bent to kiss Nita on the forehead. **"Chi hullo li hoke, atek aiokli."** One more kiss and a whispered prayer, and then it was time to go. Roy at his side, he followed as far as he was allowed, then stood watching until they turned the corner and Nita was out of sight. He took a minute to gather his thoughts, then jogged back to the elevator. He would go to the nursery to see the babies and give Billy the good news. Dixie would know where to find him when there was anything to report.

**•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•**

**Choctaw - English glossary**

**Yakoke, Chihowa - Thank you, God.**

**Chi hullo li hoke, atek aiokli - I love you so much, my beautiful wife.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Greetings, dear readers! Please accept my apologies for the long delay between chapters — my husband and I have been working hard on a novel lately, and most of my writing time has been going to that. Thank you for sticking with me. And as always, thank you, Piscean6724 and katbybee for being the best beta readers ever!**

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Johnny sat in the nursery rocking his daughter, his left hand gently stroking her thick black hair while his right patted her back in a soothing rhythm. She had opened her eyes and gazed up at him for a long moment when he'd first settled her on his chest. He'd alternated between holding his son and holding her, wanting to give them each individual attention. Baby Boy Gage was sleeping peacefully at the moment, so Johnny had placed him in his incubator and picked up his daughter when she began to fuss. He was grateful that Nurse Spears was off shift. Pediatric Nurse Intern Anna Karlstrom had a sunny disposition and he had enjoyed talking with her today, during her first shift in NICU. Nurse Spears never would have stood for one of the student nurses talking with someone she thought had no business being there in the first place, but the day-shift nurse supervisor didn't mind as long the student nurses did not neglect their assigned work. After several hours observing her in the NICU, Johnny could vouch for the fact that Anna Karlstrom was quite conscientious about that work.

She was an attractive young lady, the sort Johnny might have tried to date 15 years ago, before Nita came back into his life. He enjoyed the fact that he could talk with her without having the pressure of impressing her. In her early 20s, she was a new arrival, both in the United States and at Rampart, and she had been especially excited to discover that Johnny and Nita were Native Americans. As she explained it, her only previous encounter with Indians had been in the pages of a Swedish translation of James Fenimore Cooper's _Leatherstocking Tales _she had received one Christmas as a teenager, so she had some rather romanticized notions. For about an hour after Johnny had walked in that morning, she had peppered him with questions about Indians. He had accepted those questions in good humor because she asked with respect, clearly eager to expand her understanding of the world, rather than with any desire to denigrate anyone. So, when she expressed wonder that he and Nita lived in a regular house rather than a tipi, drove cars, and had electricity, he took no offense.

She already seemed fond of the Gage twins. In fact, when Johnny had arrived around 10 that morning, just before his brother-in-law left for class, Nurse Karlstrom was rocking Baby Boy Gage and singing him a Swedish lullaby. Johnny didn't mind. He figured the more love his children received, the better. His heart ached, though, for Nita to have a chance to love on these little ones herself. They needed to hear their mother's voice, to feel her touch. If all went well today, they would have that soon.

"Precious little girl," he crooned over his baby girl, and he dropped a gentle kiss on her brow. "Your mama loves you so very much. Never doubt that."

He glanced at the door, silently willing Dixie to appear there with an update. He knew the surgery could take up to eight hours and it had only been three. Baby Girl squirmed and chirped in his arms. He'd recently taken to calling her Hvshushi because her peeps and squeaks reminded him of a nest full of baby cardinals his father had once shown him. A stray cat had killed the mother bird, but Inki had known just what to do to save the nestlings. They'd lived in the Gage family's rickety old barn until they were big enough to leave the nest and fend for themselves. Then Inki had released them, but they often visited, swooping down to land on Johnny's shoulder or his dad's and chirp a happy greeting.

Nurse Karlstrom had heard him use the term "Hvshushi" and asked what it meant. "Little Bird," he told her, and he followed up with the story of the rescued baby cardinals.

She laughed. "In my language, this is fågelunge."

Johnny couldn't quite wrap his tongue around that word, but his attempt made the young nurse giggle. He finally gave up. "You'll have to teach Nita that. She has a real knack for languages. I think English and Choctaw and a little bit of Spanish are about my limit."

Around two in the afternoon, Dixie finally made her appearance. She bent to kiss Baby Girl's head, then smiled at Johnny. "Everything is going very well so far. Dr. Valdez estimates another three hours before he's ready to close." She squeezed Johnny's hand. "Nita is a fighter, Johnny. You keep loving on these beautiful babies and I'll be back with another update when I can."

Johnny watched Dixie go. She had been a bastion of support throughout this entire ordeal. But he hadn't expected anything else. He wondered if she realized how much she meant to him. When he'd first started working with her, he'd gone through a stage of having a crush on her that caused him to blush just about every time he saw her. He never actually imagined anything would come of it, and gradually, the crush had faded, replaced by a brotherly admiration. He would do just about anything for Dixie. And he knew she would do just about anything for him or Roy. She would for any of her paramedics, actually, but Johnny knew he and Roy had something special with Dixie McCall, and that this something special extended to the Gage and DeSoto families too. Well, after this week, he was more determined than ever to make sure that Dixie knew without a doubt how important she was to the Gage family.

He glanced down at his Little Bird, who had stopped her squirming and was now fast asleep. He would lay her down and then go find Roy to give him the news. He should be done with class by now. JoAnne had stayed home today to spend some time with the kids, but Roy had probably called to tell her that Nita was in surgery. She would want an update as well. Johnny stood, careful not to jostle his sleeping daughter, and carried her back to her incubator. He laid her gently inside, then hurried past Anna Karlstrom, giving her a wave as he went by. "Tack, Nurse Anna," he said with a grin. "Tack" was a Swedish word he could handle — she'd taught it to him and it meant thank you. She'd tried to teach him the word for nurse, but he found that one even harder than fågelunge, so he switched to English for it. "Bye. If Dixie comes back, please let her know I'll either be in the office with Roy or getting lunch in the cafeteria."

"Of course," Anna said with a smile and a bob of her chin. "What is it you say in Choctaw? Billy said it earlier." Her forehead puckered slightly and then she brightened. "Chi pisa la chike? I will see you later?"

Johnny laughed and nodded his head. "You really need to get to know Nita. I think you'd be great friends. And she'd be chattering away with you in Swedish before long! Anyway, thanks again. Or if you want it in Choctaw, that's 'ya-ko-ke.' Chi pisa la chike."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Matthew had to admit he felt better after a good rest and a light lunch. He was up now, sitting in a wheelchair and gazing out his window. His dad sat nearby, reading a book, respecting Matt's desire for quiet.

A knock at the door drew Matt's attention away from the window. A second later, an unfamiliar doctor stepped in and greeted Matthew with a nod. "Hello. I'm Dr. Felix Manning," he said. "Are you Matthew Carter?"

Under his lab coat, Dr. Manning wore a Denver Broncos sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. His dirty blond hair hung to his shoulders in a tangle of curls. Though he didn't appear much older than Captain Stoker, he clutched a cane in his right hand and his shoulders were a bit stooped. Matthew's first thought was that he looked more like either a mad scientist or a hippy than a doctor, but then his mother's voice flitted through his mind: _Don't judge a book by its cover, Matt. _His gaze briefly lit on his dad, still dressed in that ratty old Grateful Dead t-shirt, and he figured he'd better take his mom's advice.

"Yeah. I'm Matt." He gestured to his dad, who had looked up from his book and started to rise, one hand stretched out toward the doctor. "This is my father, Andy Carter. You're the doctor who came to check out Melissa, right?" He already knew the answer, but he figured the question was a good opener.

"Yes, that's right." Dr. Manning nodded to the empty chair. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Help yourself." Matt felt on edge. He was desperate for Dr. Manning to tell him that there had been a mistake, that Melissa was going to be just fine, maybe even that the baby would be OK after all. But he knew the likelihood of any of that was incredibly small. He steeled himself for the announcement that it was time to turn off Melissa's life support.

"Mr. Carter…" Dr. Manning's slightly nasal tenor voice was strangely comforting. "I understand that you are listed as Melissa Sinclair's next of kin."

Matt swallowed hard as his eyes flitted to the ring box, still sitting on his table. "I, uh… guess so. That's what Dr. Brackett told me this morning. Melissa's my fiancee… at least… well… we had talked about it. But then we fought, so I don't know for sure…"

The doctor gave a slow nod. "All right then. First, let me express my condolences to you on the loss of your child."

Lowering his eyes briefly, Matt gave a brisk nod. "Thanks," he said curtly. He wasn't ready to talk about it with a stranger.

Thankfully, the doctor got right down to business. "Mr. Carter, I have looked through Miss Sinclair's chart, and I am aware of what Dr. Brackett has already told you. But after my examination, I want to tell you that I believe there is hope. The brain is a mysterious organ — as much as we've studied it, there's a lot we just don't know. I have seen people worse off than Miss Sinclair survive and even go on to thrive. Now, don't misunderstand me — I'm not telling you it's a sure thing and I'm not saying it will be easy. I'm just saying there is hope. Can you hang on to that?"

Matt blinked in surprise. If he hadn't been sitting down, he was pretty sure he would have staggered back and grabbed at something for support. He had expected to hear that it was time to let Melissa go. Hopeful for some guidance, he glanced at his father. The unwavering support he saw in the older man's eyes strengthened him, and he squared his shoulders. "Yeah. I mean… I'd like to. But Doc, if she does make it, what can we expect for her recovery?"

Dr. Manning raised a shoulder in a light shrug. "As I said, the brain is a mysterious organ. I know it's infuriating, but I really cannot tell you what to expect until we get that far. Right now it's a waiting game — we'll know more when the swelling subsides. Most likely she'll face some degree of memory loss. Possible impaired speech or motor function. Seizures are likely. So are personality changes. Miss Sinclair is going to need support, patience, and love to get through this."

"She'll have it," Matt declared. "Whatever she needs, I'll be there for her." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught his father's look of concern, but Andy didn't say anything. Matt figured he was due for another serious discussion, but he hoped it could wait. He was starting to feel tired again and breathing hurt like hell. Besides that, his head was starting to pound again. That morning he had resisted his pain meds, but now he hoped the nurse would come soon.

"Excellent." Dr. Manning patted Matthew's arm. "And now, if you don't mind me saying so, you look like you need to get back to bed yourself. You're hurting pretty bad, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Matt saw no reason to deny it any longer. Clearly, he wasn't as good at masking it as he thought.

"Let me guess… bruised lung?"

"Possibly." Matt grimaced. "How'd you know?"

"Well, it was a guess based on your breathing. It may hurt less to take those quick shallow breaths, but you'll get mucus build up, which will only make things worse in the long run. You need to let yourself cough and take deep breaths."

"Yeah, I know. Dr. Early told me." Matt forced himself to suck in a deep breath, which set off a flurry of coughing.

Dr. Manning waited until he was done, then gripped his cane and stood. "I'll let the nurse know on my way out. I've scheduled Miss Sinclair for another CT scan later today and I'll be back to check the results. And of course, the ICU staff know to contact me immediately if there is any change. I'll stop in this evening to let you know where things stand. Meanwhile, get some rest. I'm sure that's what your doctor has ordered."

"Yessir." Matt raised a hand in a weak wave. When the nurse came in a few minutes later, he made no fuss about moving back to his bed and accepting the pain meds.

By the time the nurse was leaving, Matt already felt his eyelids beginning to droop. "I know you wanna talk, Dad," he said, his words slightly slurred thanks to the meds. "Maybe after I nap, K?"

"Sure thing, Son." Andy reached to give his hand a squeeze, then returned his attention to his book. Within seconds, Matt was sound asleep.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"Hey, Roy?"

Roy looked up from the lesson he was preparing to see Johnny standing just inside the office doorway. His partner hadn't been back to the office since the call had come about Nita just over a week ago. Since then, Johnny had practically lived in ICU. Roy appraised his friend carefully before responding — earlier that morning, when Nita was rushed to surgery, Johnny had been pale, his hands trembling, his eyes frantic with worry. Now his color was back to normal and his shoulders were no longer slumped as if he carried the weight of the world on his back. He must have had good news. Still, Roy wouldn't presume. "Hi, Junior. Any word yet?"

Johnny exhaled in a long, relieved sigh, then smiled. "Yeah. Dixie says it's going well. A few more hours before they close. Umm… listen… I haven't had lunch yet and suddenly I'm starving. Want to update Jo, then go down to the cafeteria with me for a late lunch? We can talk about class and maybe I'll be able to take tomorrow's session and give you a break."

Roy grinned. If Johnny was 'starving,' things really were looking up. "Junior, I thought you'd never ask," he said as he dialed Jo.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Down in the cafeteria, as Johnny tucked into a cheeseburger and fries, Roy told him about Matt Carter and his girlfriend. "Damn." Johnny put down the burger and took a drink of his milk. "How'd I miss all that?"

"Really, Junior?" Roy said with a roll of his eyes as he unwrapped the sandwich Jo had sent with him that morning. "I think the twins and Nita have been enough for you to focus on. Matt will understand. He's had Mike and Marco and his dad there, anyway. I stopped in briefly before class, but he was asleep so I didn't get to talk to him. My guess is, before long, Colonel Carter and maybe even LeBeau will be here. And Matt's mom and sister, of course. Matt will have plenty of company."

"So… tell me how the kids are doing." Johnny changed the subject abruptly. He cared about Matt, of course, but he had spent the entire last week totally focused on his wife and children. Now things were looking good for Nita, and he felt the need to spend a little time just talking about something pleasant.

"Well, DJ won't stop talking about his Uncle Johnny and Aunt Bear."

Johnny laughed. "He's still calling her that?"

"Sure is. Says that you told him Nita means bear, so she's Aunt Bear and he's Little Bear. We're keepin' a close watch on him, because he's liable to try to come visit Nita on his own if we don't bring him soon."

"He's one determined little kid." Johnny crammed three french fries into his mouth at once but didn't wait till he swallowed to continue the conversation. "Chris has that big basketball game later this week, doesn't he?"

"He does." Roy sat up straight, warming to the subject of his oldest son. "And get this — Coach wants to put him in as point guard. Says he's proven himself a strong player and a good leader."

"Well, a'right. Good for Chris!" Johnny downed his last few french fries, then gulped from his glass of milk. He hadn't realized till this moment how much he'd been missing the camaraderie he and Roy shared. "How about Megan?"

Roy chuckled. "You'll love this. She has to write a report on a folktale, and she has decided to use your 'Funny Lucy' story."*

Johnny laughed — a genuine, cleansing belly laugh. "Man, she still remembers that? That was what… almost five years ago?"

"Yeah. She not only remembers it, Junior. She's told it to DJ so many times he can repeat it verbatim. She already told her teacher about it, and…" Here he smirked slightly. "I believe she wants to bring you to school with her for show and tell."

Johnny just about spewed milk. "She's 11… they still have show 'n tell?"

Roy shrugged. "Well, maybe they don't call it that, but it amounts to the same thing."

"Well, I'm honored. And what I said back then still goes…" He brandished an arm in an exaggerated flourish and bowed his head. "The princess calls, and her faithful knight obeys."

"Is her faithful knight going to bring his milk mustache with him?" Roy observed wryly. "Anyway, I told Megan she has to ask her teacher about it first. If Miss Cleary agrees, then she can ask you herself. Just figured I should give you a heads up."

"Thanks." Johnny swiped a napkin across his upper lip, removing evidence of the milk mustache, then settling back in his chair. "So how's class goin'? I'm sorry you got saddled with it the first week. I know that has to be hard." He gestured toward Roy's crutches. "Especially with physical therapy. How's that goin'?"

Roy chuckled. "Slow down… one question at a time please. Class is good. We've got some great students. Billy is one of the best."

"He'd better be, or Nita'll tan his hide," Johnny quipped. He reached for his chocolate pudding cup and started in on dessert.

"He was awful dreamy today in class, though. I figured it was probably because of Nita being in surgery, so I left him alone. But I've never seen him like that."

"Dreamy, huh?" Johnny dropped the empty pudding cup onto his tray and pushed it aside. "Well, that could have been about Nita, but I have a feeling there's more to it."

"Oh?" Roy's eyebrow shot up. "Tell me about it."

A crooked grin spread across Johnny's face. "Oh, it could have something to do with a pretty little nurse in the NICU named Anna Karlstrom. She's new. He was in there talking with her when I got there this morning and I got the vague idea that he was smitten. I didn't think about it much till now, but yeah… he was definitely making eyes at her." The thought pleased him. So far, he hadn't seen Nita's brother involve himself in much of anything beyond work and his training. The young man needed to have some fun.

"Well, good for Billy." Roy piled his trash on Johnny's tray, then grasped his crutches and stood up. "C'mon, Junior. Let's head back upstairs. I'll fill you in on PT and then we can talk about class and make plans for you to teach tomorrow's lesson."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**NOTE:**

***See my story, _Legends and Light._**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Dear readers, once again I find myself apologizing for a long wait between chapters. As I have mentioned before, my husband and I have been working on our first novel. We finished our first draft in March and have spent the long days of quarantine deeply ensconced in editing. Now we have a chance to breathe a little bit and I have enjoyed getting back to my friends at Rampart. Thank you to all who are coming back and continuing to read! I hope you are all staying healthy and safe during this crazy time!**

**It's a short chapter compared to my usual, but the ending makes me happy. **

**Thank you as always to my awesome beta readers, katbybee and Piscean6724. **

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Glossary**

Chi hullo li, atek — I love you, my wife

Okcha — Wake up

Pim vllosi yvt ishki afama bvnna — Our babies want to meet their mama.

Nashoba — Wolf (Johnny's Choctaw name)

Halito — Hello

Ishkitini — horned owl

Tasembo — Crazy (the name of Johnny's dog)

Chi pisa la chike — I will see you later

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Dr. Valdez's grin was evident, even from behind his surgical mask. He stood back and held up his hands. "And that, my friends, is that. She looks great." He stepped back from the surgical table and glanced at the clock. "Kel, thanks for the help. If you'll take it from here, I might just make it to my son's basketball game."

"No problem, Pete." Kel moved into the space the surgeon had vacated. He looked at Dixie over the top of his mask. Her eyes radiated happiness. Kel felt it too. "Thanks, Dix."

"Why are you thanking me?" she asked, a coquettish sparkle in her eyes. "Valdez did the hard work."

Kel laughed. "You know exactly why I'm thanking you, Dixie. Now let's get our friend here ready to go to Recovery. Then we'll go find Johnny and give him the good news."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Johnny and Roy were sitting in their office. They never had gotten to work on their class preparations. Instead, they were just enjoying their friendship, chatting about old times in a way they hadn't for a while now. Roy sensed, though, that Johnny's apparent relaxation was nothing more than a veneer. Like his dog Tasembo up at the ranch, he was ready to leap into action at any moment. Whenever footsteps sounded in the hall outside the office, his shoulders would tense slightly and he would sit up straighter, as if expecting a knock at the door. Roy said nothing of it. He'd been there enough times in his life.

"When things calm down a bit, you need to come up to the ranch," Johnny said. "Tex and I have something to show you."

"Something to do with the big secret I've heard about?"

Johnny groaned. "The kids let it slip, didn't they? I knew I shouldn't have taken them up —"

"Now hold on there, Junior, before you let the cat out of the bag yourself." Roy held up a hand. "The kids didn't tell me anything. Well, except that there was a secret. DJ did let that slip. But he said he wasn't 'a'posed' to tell me."

Roy's kids had been to visit the Gage ranch several times in recent months, and they always came home excited but secretive. DJ had never been very good at keeping secrets, but he'd been close-mouthed about this one. The closest he'd gotten to spilling the beans was, "There's somethin' I'm not a'posed to tell you, Daddy, but it's a good somethin'." The little boy's eyes had glowed at the near-revelation and he hopped from one foot to the other, a sure sign that he was aching for Roy to ask him to elaborate. Roy had to admit he was tempted to push the matter, but he just kissed DJ's head and chuckled. "And that was it," he told Johnny after relating the story. "I haven't heard a word about it since."

"Scout's honor?" Johnny asked.

Roy held up two fingers. "Scout's honor. I don't know the secret."

"Well, a'right then," Johnny said with a satisfied nod. "As I was sayin', you'll have to come visit when things calm down. Maybe Jo could stay with Nita and the twins and we could take the kids for a horseback ride. Tex was sayin'..."

Roy frowned as Johnny continued. Before losing his leg, he had enjoyed horseback riding with his best friend. Now, though, he wasn't so sure. Even with the prosthetic, he would have to learn to balance all over again.

"Roy?"

He shook his head. His anxieties had made him lose track of Johnny's monologue. "Sorry. I got distracted there for a minute."

"I was saying, you don't need to worry about riding. Tex has some ideas to make it work for you. We'll practice in the ring first till you're comfortable, before trying the trails."

Roy was saved from responding by the sound of more footsteps in the hall. Johnny turned his head toward the door just as the steps stopped and someone knocked.

"Come in!" Johnny called.

The door opened, admitting Dixie and Dr. Brackett. To Roy's relief, both were smiling.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Back in ICU, Johnny sat at Nita's bedside, holding her hand. Dixie stood nearby, checking the monitors.

"Remember, Johnny, she'll be disoriented when she starts waking up."

He chuckled. "How many times have I been the one in the bed, Dix? I know what it's like."

"I'm just doing my job, like I would with anyone else." She patted his shoulder. "It may take a few days for her vision to return, but her blood pressure is already headed in the right direction."

He nodded. "I know. Thanks, Dix. I… I can't tell you how much we appreciate everything you've done for us."

"Like I said, Tiger, I'm just doing my job, same as I would for anyone… of course, you and Nita and those babies aren't just anyone. The Gages are special." She planted a kiss on the top of Johnny's head, then moved to Nita's side. "I'm going to check her vitals again, then I'll go find Billy and let him know he can come up."

Johnny checked his watch. "I think he had study group at five. I'd bet anything he went back to NICU after they wrapped up to see if a certain nurse intern is still on duty." Johnny chuckled again, remembering the moony look his brother-in-law had given Anna Karlstrom that morning before leaving for class.

"Oh? Don't tell me Billy is following in your footsteps with Rampart's nurses." She nudged Johnny's shoulder, then reached around him for Nita's wrist.

He made room for the nurse, but still kept hold of his wife's hand. "No. Billy's looking for something more lasting than I was back then. Nita says she can count on one hand the number of girls he's been interested in since… well… since he was old enough to notice them." He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Let's see… first there was Eliza Thompson back in Bogue Chitto. Billy came home from seventh grade one day and told Nita he was going to marry her. They were going steady until the beginning of tenth grade when she broke up with him to date the quarterback. Next was… hmm… Emmy Frazier his junior year, but after graduation she went away to college and eventually they drifted apart. And then Amy Ferrell after they moved to California. She decided he was too square because he wasn't interested in the bar scene. And that's…" He stopped suddenly. Had Nita just squeezed his hand? Maybe he imagined it. "Nita, honey?" Wait… there it was again… barely perceptible, but he was certain her fingers had curled slightly around his. "Dix, I think she's waking up."

Dixie lay her hand on Nita's arm. "Hey, Nita. Let me see those beautiful eyes, hmm?" She nodded to Johnny. "Talk to her."

"Chi hullo li, atek," Johnny crooned. "Okcha, Nita. Pim vllosi yvt ishki afama bvnna." Her hand tightened a little more around his. He raised it to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. His eyes fastened on hers, silently willing them to open.

A minute later, he was rewarded by the sight of her eyelids forcing their way to half-mast. Her grip had tightened on his hand. He looked into her eyes, hoping for some sign that she could see him, but they were blank and unfocused, and her pupils did not respond to light.

With her free hand, she reached to grasp her breathing tube. Johnny grabbed her hand and gently lowered it. "Leave it alone for now. The doc'll come soon and take it out." He looked up at Dixie.

She nodded and patted Nita's arm. "I'll page Kel, and then I'll find Billy."

"Thanks, Dix." As the nurse moved toward the door, Johnny brushed his lips across Nita's forehead. She had closed her eyes again, but didn't loosen her grip on his hand.

She woke up a little more when Dr. Brackett arrived, and before long the breathing tube was out. Johnny spoon fed her some ice chips to soothe her throat.

"Nashoba," she whispered. Her hoarse voice tugged at Johnny's heart. He knew there was nothing he wouldn't do for this woman. Her fingers curled around his hand. "Pim vllosi?"

He squeezed her hand. "Our babies are beautiful," he told her. "Thankfully, they take after their Mama."

"I hear you smiling," she said, and a soft smile of her own flitted across her face. "I want to meet them… need… to nurse them."

He squeezed her hand and tried to keep the smile in his voice. "Right now you just need to get stronger, Nita." Brackett had already explained that Nita wouldn't be able to nurse the twins. The medication she would have to take from now on might get to the babies in her milk, and might not be safe for them. But he would wait to give her that news. "Maybe tomorrow you can go up in a wheelchair to the NICU and meet them." He kissed her knuckles, then gently lowered her hand. "Rest, love. I'll be right here with you."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"She's OK, Dixie?" Billy planted his feet on the floor, stopping the gentle movement of the rocking chair. The memory of his nightmare had stayed with him through the last couple of days. It receded a bit when he came out of Dr. Early's afternoon seminar and headed down to the cafeteria for study group. Dr. Brackett passed by on the way into an exam room, but he took a moment to wave Billy down and give him the news. Nita was out of surgery and in recovery now… Billy could go up to see her in ICU in a couple of hours. Still, he kept hearing ishkitini. In need of a diversion, after study group he had come back to NICU. The babies were sleeping, but Anna Karlstrom was here, and he figured she would be a pleasant diversion. Nurse Karlstrom was easy on the eyes, and he liked watching her with the babies. Liked listening to her, too. She talked to her charges in her native language, a lilting sort of talk he thought would probably tie his tongue in knots if he tried it. When he first came in, though, she hadn't spoken Swedish or even English. She'd said, "Halito, Billy," and then she'd blushed bright red. "Did I say it right?"

That had been an hour ago. She'd been working, but she didn't mind having him there to help pass the time, and while they talked the memory of that nightmare finally left him alone. But then Dixie came in and it all came rushing back.

"She's just fine, Billy. I came to tell you she's started waking up. Johnny is with her. Dr. Brackett just went up to check on her and he'll probably take out the breathing tube. You can go up to see her any time. I'll find you up there — first I have to go return a phone call."

He sat back in the rocking chair, closed his eyes, and breathed out a long sigh of relief. Next thing he knew, Nurse Karlstrom was sitting next to him and her soft, cool hand was wrapping itself around his and she was talking to him the way she did the babies. Even in English, the lilt and cadence of her speech made it sound like a song. He kept his eyes closed, breathing in deep and letting the sound of her voice fill him up. He wanted to see Nita, but suddenly he wasn't in much of a hurry.

"I was praying for your sister all day," she said. "I knew you were worried."

"Thank you." He pressed his eyelids tight to hold back the tears that threatened. He could hear his grandfather's stern admonition, directed at him so often when he was a boy — _Men don't cry. _Why would he even be about to cry now when Dixie said Nita was going to be OK? Suddenly it all began to spill out — the tears, hot on his cheeks… the flood of words… the whole story of the dream and ishkitini and Tasembo. A soft voice in the back of his mind kept telling him to stop, that she would think he had lost his mind and wouldn't want anything to do with him, but darn it, she was just so easy to talk to and somehow he couldn't stop. When he opened his eyes and realized she was still holding his hand, he got quiet all of a sudden. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm crazy."

She shook her head and handed him an embroidered handkerchief. "No, I do not. I could see this morning, you are on edge. You try to hide how anxious you are. Now your sister does well and you need not worry so, but you still have all that emotion inside, like… like a potato left baking in the oven too long. If you do not release the steam at the right time…" She smiled and flicked out her fingers to illustrate her next word — "Pop!"

Billy laughed as he scrubbed his face dry with the handkerchief. He handed it back, but she put her hand over his. "You keep it. In case you need to pop again."

He nodded, speechless, marveling at her insight. Her illustration perfectly described how he felt. The first time he'd cooked for himself after Nita married Johnny and moved out, he'd left a baked potato in the oven too long. Nita had always told him that he should open up the oven and poke holes in a potato after it cooked for a while, but he got distracted and forgot about it until he heard a muted pop coming from the oven. It was a mistake he only made once — clean-up had been a huge job, one he never wanted to do again. But yeah, now that he thought about it, he sure could sympathize with that potato. He squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Nurse Karlstrom."

"You will call me Anna. Or I call you Fireman Folsom."

"Anna," he echoed. He folded her handkerchief and pushed it into his jacket pocket. He knew he needed to leave. Nita aside, Nurse Spears was coming on shift soon and she had made her disapproval of Billy quite plain. Well, to be honest, Billy wasn't sure whether she disapproved of Native Americans or men or just people in general, but he figured he'd better high-tail it out of there before she arrived. She couldn't kick him out because Dixie and Brackett had informed her that Nita's family, including Billy, were to have access to the twins at all times, but she could make life difficult for Anna, and Billy didn't want to contribute to that. Still, he lingered a moment longer, held captive by her eyes.

"Go see your sister, Billy. I am also here tomorrow. Chi pisa la chike."

He gulped. How did she make Choctaw sound like that? His heart was beating double time as he finally backed towards the door. "Chi pisa la chike," he said. _I will see you again… as soon as possible._


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind reviews and messages! If I missed responding to anyone, I apologize. Marbo, you'll see more of Melissa in this chapter. I also like the idea of Billy and Anna together — when her character showed up in Chapter 7, I wasn't intending that, but it just seemed right!  
**

**The characters Andy Carter and his dad, Andrew Carter (from _Hogan's Heroes), _as they appear in this story, belong to katbybee. So does LeBeau's California estate. I'd like to thank her for letting me use them and for helping me stay true to her vision for them! Also, I make reference to her story _Onions_. It's a great story and I recommend it!**

**To avoid spoilers, I've moved the glossary to the end of the chapter.**

**Thank you, katbybee and piscean6724, for being the most awesome beta readers ever! Sorry I made you late to work, piscean6724. :P **

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

A mournful groan woke Matthew from a fitful sleep in the middle of the night. Only when he felt his dad's arms pulling him close did he realize that he himself was the source of the sound. He grabbed hold of his dad and clung tight as a wave of grief ripped through him. The pain went deeper than any of his injuries, as if his heart were being torn in two. How could it hurt this much to lose a child he had never seen or held, a child he had only learned of about a week ago? Damn, but it seemed like a lifetime had elapsed since Melissa had cried in his arms after telling him about the pregnancy. Whether she would survive was still up in the air, and if she did, who could know what she would remember? For now, Matthew had no choice but to carry the memories and the grief for her. For the first time since he'd heard that the baby was lost, he gave in to the tears. He couldn't hold them back any longer.

Through it all, his dad never let go. He just held Matt and let him cry until he had no more tears. Only when Matthew was quiet, but still clinging to him like a small child, did he speak. "Listen to me, Son," he said fiercely. "I know it hurts like hell, but you are going to get through it. You aren't in this alone."

"Easy for you to say. What do you know about it, Dad?" Matt regretted the words almost immediately, but he didn't take them back. Instead, he swiped the sleeve of his hospital gown over his face, trying to rub away the last remnant of his tears.

Dad stared at him for a moment, and the sorrow in his eyes struck Matt's conscience hard. "Matt," he finally said, "I wasn't going to talk about this because what you're going through isn't about me. But I want you to know that I do understand. When you were very small, your Mom had a miscarriage. It was pretty awful. We had been so excited about having another baby. You were only two, almost three. Your mother was almost six months along when she lost a little girl. I wasn't there… I was overseas. The Army flew me home within forty-eight hours, but I wasn't there when she needed me."

Matt could hear the guilt and lingering sorrow that tinged his dad's tone. He wasn't sure how to respond so he just stared down at his hands.

"So trust me, Son," Dad continued. "It _isn't _easy for me to say. I can't know exactly how it feels for you because every person experiences grief in their own way, but I do know that you are hurting more than you have ever hurt before. And I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Slowly, Matt nodded. His chest ached and after his crying jag, each breath was agonizing.

Dad reached across him and pushed the call button. "We'll talk more later," he said softly. "I think it's about time for your pain meds."

"I… I'm… sorry, Dad."

Dad eased Matt back against his pillows, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "I know, Son. I know."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"Nita, atek aiukli. Okcha." The soft voice tugged at the edges of Nita's consciousness, pulling her out of her sedative-induced sleep. She hated the way the sedatives made her feel — her brain felt thick and her mouth was dry and her entire body felt heavy. At least at the moment, she wasn't feeling any pain. She felt Nashoba's hand brush against her cheek and instinctively she turned toward it, but she resisted opening her eyes. At least with her eyes closed she could pretend that all she had to do was open them and she would see her husband's warm brown eyes looking down at her. She couldn't stand the thought of finding out she really was still blind.

She reached to clasp Nashoba's hand as her sluggish thoughts meandered through what she remembered of the last… what was it? Days? Hours? Time meant nothing to her here in this hospital bed. She had vague memories of waking up with a breathing tube in place, but she couldn't remember if Nashoba had explained why. As the grogginess receded, at least the most important detail fell in place. The babies… they were here. Her eyes flew open and suddenly she was wide awake. "Nashoba! Chi pisa li!"

He was fuzzy, but she could definitely see him, and she drank in the sight of his face as he leaned closer to her like it was cold water in the desert. She reached up and stroked his face with her finger tips.

He grabbed her hand and kissed each finger, then bent over her to brush his lips against hers. "I should get Doc Brackett," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

"Not yet, please," she said. "First tell me about our babies. I think… I think you said, they're all right. But everything's foggy."

"They're small. They need some help eating. But they're going to be just fine. They're beautiful, just like their Mama." He smiled. "I call our little girl Hushushi, because the little noises she makes remind me of a baby bird. And our son... " He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. "Oh, Nita. He opened his eyes and looked up at me this morning, and I could swear I saw your Mama looking at me. Is it too early to say he looks like her?"

This was such vintage Nashoba — his emotions spilling over in a flood of words — that Nita couldn't help laughing, and that was the moment she realized she was indeed hurting. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Nita?" The flood of words stopped and she heard him moving to the door and calling for the nurse.

"I'm all right, Nashoba," she said when he settled next to her again. "I just realized I shouldn't be laughing right now." Her eyes slid to the IV tube hung at her bedside. "I suppose it would be worse without that."

He nodded. "Your liver ruptured," he explained. "They delivered the babies by c-section and they had to do a liver transplant."

"A transplant?" Suddenly she felt as if a crushing weight had settled on her chest and she couldn't catch her breath. A transplant meant someone died. The reason she was here and alive and had the hope of watching her babies grow up was because someone else's life had come to an end. The thought brought tears to her eyes. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel. Grateful to be alive? But how could she be happy knowing that her continued life depended on someone else's death?

"Hey," Nashoba said as he squeezed her hand. "It's OK, honey. You're on the mend and everything is going to be all right."

It wasn't OK, but Nita couldn't bring herself to do more than nod. The nurse came bustling in just then, so she couldn't really talk about it anyway. She answered the nurse's questions with as few words as possible. Only a few minutes ago, she would have objected to more morphine, but now she welcomed it. As she drifted back to sleep, though, she realized that the drug had done nothing to relieve the guilt she felt gnawing in the pit of her stomach.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Dixie set her water glass down and looked up at Kel. Their lunch at the Velvet Slipper had been a pleasant interlude on a hectic day. She'd hardly seen him since Nita's surgery yesterday, and so she had not thought twice about accepting his invitation. Now she wished she didn't have to go back to work. She was exhausted, and she was willing to bet he was too.

She met eyes with Kel briefly, then glanced down at her salad. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her made her stomach turn flips, and she hated that. She'd never been that sort of woman, going all weak in the knees over a man. Well… maybe with Adam… and with Taffy. Before she could pick up her fork, he reached his hand across the table and grasped hers. "I couldn't have made it through the last couple of weeks without you, Dix."

_Oh hell, _She pulled her hand away and grabbed her fork, then speared some lettuce, a radish, and a crouton and shoved them in her mouth. _Please, Kel. Don't do this. Not now. I have other things to think about._

Once she had swallowed, she wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin then let it drop back in her lap. "I talked with Melissa Sinclair's father yesterday. He called from… Finland, I think it was. And he's furious. He insists that she would never have chosen someone else to be her next of kin and that Matt has no business making decisions for her treatment." She frowned and looked out the front window. "Of course, he can't be bothered to come back for another week. Think of it — his daughter still isn't out of the woods but he doesn't see the need to rush back! And he demands that we cut Matt off from seeing her. Like it's his fault some idiot plowed into his truck." She stabbed at another piece of lettuce, but then set her fork down. Her appetite was fading fast.

Suddenly Kel's hand clasped hers again and her eyes were drawn back to his. Damn. What was it that made his gaze so magnetic anyway? "It'll be all right, Dix. As for Melissa, she's an adult. She made her wishes known by designating Matt, and we will respect that. Her father will just have to deal with it." He dunked his French dip sandwich into a steaming bowl of broth. "And things are going better for Melissa than any of us expected," he said, then took a bite.

"I know." Dixie sighed. Melissa Sinclair was holding her own. That was the important thing, after all. And Nita was doing well too. As of this morning, she was even starting to get her vision back. "I'm just so tired, Kel. It's been a long week."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. He set his sandwich on the plate then washed the bite down with a swig of water. "I hear you, Dix. We've both put in double time this week."

Dixie's eyebrows shot up. "You sure it's only double? I stopped keeping track around Wednesday, but it feels longer."

His wry grin just about did her in. "Maybe that's because you didn't just put yourself on the night shift this week, you've been spending most of your days at Rampart too. You work yourself too hard, Dix. Once your shift ends today, you are taking the next few days off." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a stern look. "No arguments." His expression melted into his most charming smile. "Of course, before you leave, we're all supposed to meet in the NICU. As long as Nita's vitals are good, I've OK'd her for a short trip down there and Johnny says they're finally going to announce the babies' names."

Her curiosity piqued, Dixie couldn't help but smile back. "Well, I wouldn't miss that for the world." She glanced at her watch and groaned. "Seems like every time we come here, we barely get started on our meal before it's time to get back to work."

Kel waggled his eyebrows. "Well, at least we weren't delivering a baby in the back room this time." He tossed a twenty on the table to cover their bill and a tip, then stood, shoved his wallet in his pocket, and gestured for Dixie to take the lead. "After you, Dix."

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Johnny leaned back in his swivel chair. He had joined Roy in teaching the class today, and it had gone well. It felt good, working with his best friend again. He missed being a paramedic in the field, and he knew Roy did too, but at least they could do their darndest to make sure that the up-and-coming paramedics had the best possible training. At his desk, Roy was busy packing his bag with quizzes he planned to grade that afternoon. While he worked, Johnny made several careful folds in a sheet of paper. When it met his satisfaction, he flicked it across the room.

The paper football fell just short of Roy, who looked down at it, then up at Johnny. He rolled his eyes before chuckling. "Guess I shouldn't complain about you gettin' back to your normal nutty self." He picked up the folded paper triangle and flicked it back in Johnny's direction, hitting him right between the eyes. "Touchdown!" he crowed.

Johnny ignored the gibe and tossed the football in the wastepaper basket. Any other day, Roy's comment might have triggered a disdainful snort and a rant. But today nothing could ruffle his feathers, as Nita would say. "Hey, Pally, I know you've got therapy but remember to come back at seven tonight with Jo. Meet us in the NICU and we'll announce the babies' names."

"No sneak preview for your best friend, huh?" Roy strapped his prosthetic leg in place, then let his pants leg fall down to cover it.

Johnny frowned. Had he hurt Roy's feelings, not letting him in on the names ahead of everyone else? "Roy…"

His best friend waved off his concern. "I'm teasing, Johnny. Nita should be part of the announcement. Jo already told me not to make any other plans. I'm done with therapy at five, and we'll head back here right after supper. Chris and Megan are old enough to watch D.J. for an hour or two."

Johnny sighed. "I wish they could all come, but they wouldn't be allowed in the NICU, or up in ICU. Do they know about the babies yet?"

Roy slung his backpack over one shoulder, then used his crutches to help him stand. Johnny resisted the urge to spring forward and help steady him. "Nope. We haven't told them because if DJ got wind, he'd be bound and determined to try walking himself to Rampart like he did back when I was hurt. He misses his Aunt Bear somethin' fierce. We'll give them the good news once Nita is in a regular room and they can come visit."

Johnny nodded his approval. "Makes sense. Give 'em a hug for me, please."

"You got it, Junior. And you give Nita my love."

As Roy moved to the door, Johnny watched him carefully. He could tell his friend was already relying less on his crutches as he walked with his artificial limb. His gait wasn't quite back to normal yet, but he was making quick progress, and Johnny had a feeling it wouldn't take long before he would be rid of the crutches and only a practiced eye would notice anything more than a slight limp.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

The hoped-for talk never materialized. Matthew had slept through the rest of the night and into the afternoon, though Andy wouldn't call it a sound sleep. He fretted as he watched over his son now. Dr. Early had taken him up for more chest x-rays shortly before noon, and brought him back with the news that Matt did indeed have a pulmonary contusion.

"The bruise is over about eighteen percent of the left lung," the doctor explained as he clipped the x-rays on a lightboard and indicated the tell-tale spot. "This means that the risk of complications, such as pneumonia, is low, but there is still a risk. The fact that he is young and in excellent condition will work in his favor, but we need to be proactive. We're going to focus on controlling his pain and getting him to do deep breathing exercises. For today, though, it's good that he's resting. We'll keep him on oxygen, then get him started with an incentive spirometer tomorrow."

Then Dr. Early had clapped Andy's back and proffered an encouraging smile. "He's going to be just fine, Major."

After the nurse sedated Matt with another round of morphine, Andy stepped out to try calling Yvette. Celia's class was at winter camp near Lake Tahoe and Yvette had gone along as a chaperone. According to the secretary, the group was skiing today and could not easily be reached, but she would pass the message on when they returned to camp in the evening. Andy sighed and picked up the phone again to call his dad, who thankfully, was visiting Taffy at Louis LeBeau's California estate. But no one answered there either. Frustrated, he hung up the phone a bit more forcefully than he usually would. But when he turned back toward Matt's room, he was startled by the sight of his father striding down the hallway toward him. "Uh… Colonel… I was just trying to call you."

The elder Andrew Carter quickened his pace, closing the distance to greet his son with a hug. "Hello, Andy. Taffy gave us the news about Matt. He was having a rough night, so LeBeau stayed with him and I came down." He took Andy by the arm and guided him to a bank of chairs. "Let's sit down, son. Tell me what happened." His eyes narrowed. "Taffy implied that Matt might especially need to talk with me, but he didn't elaborate. Can you tell me more?"

Andy sighed heavily. "Taffy's right. Look, Matt is sleeping right now and probably won't be up to talking much today. Let me take you upstairs. There's someone we should both meet."

A few minutes later, they entered ICU and the nurse directed them to Melissa's room with a warning of, "Just five minutes, please."

Andy blinked back tears at the sight of the unconscious young woman. He knew she was about Matt's age, but here in a hospital bed, with all those tubes and wires hooked up to her, she just looked like a kid. Far too young to be so close to death. "Dad, this is Melissa Sinclair. She's… Matt's girlfriend. Actually, he hoped she would be his fiancee. Gave her a ring and everything… but he's not sure what she would have answered. They argued and left the restaurant early and then… this."

"His… fiancee? Did you know anything about this before…" His dad's voice trailed off when Andy shook his head, and then his eyes widened in understanding. "Was she…?"

"Yes." Andy tried to keep the tears back. He'd managed it all day long, but now they filled his eyes and dripped down his cheeks. He leaned into his father's embrace, desperately in need of the same comfort he had given Matt during the night. "I was going to be a grandpa, Dad."

His dad held him for a moment while he got his emotions under control, then patted his shoulders before stepping around him and moving to Melissa's bedside. He sat down and wrapped his fingers around her hand. "Melissa, I'm Matt's grandfather, Colonel Andrew Carter, but you can call me Gramps. I hope you'll be feeling better soon and that we can get to know one another. For now… well… I'm praying for you." He beckoned to Andy, who joined him and rested his hand on Melissa's arm. "In fact, we'll pray for you right now." Together, the two men bowed their heads and the Colonel brought Melissa's needs before God.

"Well, Lord, You know Melissa and You know what she's been through. She sure could use Your help right now. I pray that You'll be with her, Lord, and if it's Your will, that You'll heal her. Comfort her heart, give her strength, and let her know that she is deeply loved. In Jesus' name, Amen."

Andy had always appreciated the fact that his dad could talk to God as if He were right there in the room with them… almost like they were sitting down together over a cup of coffee and discussing the day like two old friends. Andy believed in God and he believed in prayer, but it wasn't a regular thing for him the way it was for his dad. _Like anything else you might want to do well, it takes practice. You have to make a habit of it. _Dad had told him that when he was a teen, and every once in awhile he would make an effort that would last a few weeks, then peter out. He sure wished he could pray the way his dad did. For now, he just added his "Amen" and gave Melissa a gentle pat on the arm. Then he and his dad headed back down to Matt's room together.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

That evening, about 6:30, Dixie approached Nita's ICU room just as Kel was coming out. He stopped for a second, looked back through the door, then turned away, a worried frown turning down the corners of his mouth.

"What's the matter, Kel? She hasn't taken a turn for the worse, has she?"

Kel shook his head and sighed. "Physically, no. She's doing great. I wouldn't have OK'd this little jaunt otherwise. But she seems really depressed."

"Nita?" She couldn't imagine Johnny's wife being depressed, not now that she was on the mend. "She's one of the most positive people I know, and she's about to meet her babies for the first time. I would think that would put her in a good mood."

"I know, but it's common in transplant patients. And you know how tender-hearted Nita is. It's a lot to process and I'm sure it's hitting her hard. Time will help." The left side of Kel's mouth twitched up into a wry smile. "And maybe a touch of DLC?"

"DLC?" Dixie scrunched her eyebrows as she tried to work out the acronym.

"Dixie's Loving Care." Kel winked. "One of my most effective prescriptions. Johnny should be here soon to help get her ready to go. He's in his office, finishing up some paperwork. I'll meet you in NICU." He turned and headed for the elevator, and Dixie went into Nita's room.

From her first sight of Nita, Dixie could tell that Kel was right. She had hoped Nita's eyes would have regained their usual glow now that she had her sight back. Instead she looked… well… shattered. Dixie bent down and brushed some hair from Nita's face. "Hi, Nita. It's good to see you looking stronger. I was thinking, while we wait for Johnny, would you like me to brush your hair?"

Nita gave a quick nod, followed by a whispered, "Sure."

Dixie adjusted the bed so Nita was sitting up, then fetched a hairbrush from her purse and began gently brushing through Nita's shiny black hair, easing the bristles through the tangles. Nita sat silently, her back rigid as if she were willing herself not to fall apart. Dixie decided it was up to her to break the silence. "When I was a kid, whenever my mother sensed that anything was troubling me, she would sit me down and brush my hair." She smiled slightly at the memory. "It was one of the few times we would really connect. Mama was a real southern lady, and I was a bit too much of a tomboy for her tastes. I never could manage to follow all the rules she expected me to follow. 'A true lady never runs… a true lady never raises her voice… a true lady this and a true lady that.' I felt like she was always scolding me. But when I was upset, the best thing for it was to let Mama brush my hair." Over and over, she ran the brush through Nita's hair, even after the tangles were all smoothed out.

Gradually, Nita's tight shoulders begin to loosen. Then a tear trickled down her cheek. "My mama used to brush my hair. I miss her more than ever. I wish I could talk with her right now."

Dixie set down the brush and sat on the edge of the bed next to Nita. "I can't take your mama's place, but I'd be happy to lend an ear as a friend." She began to lightly massage Nita's back. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Johnny at the door. She gave a slight shake of her head and he nodded, then stepped out of sight. "Nita, honey. What's wrong?"

"Someone died so that I could live, Dixie. I know I'm supposed to be happy right now, but I… I just feel so guilty." Nita blinked rapidly, but more tears escaped and tracked their way down her cheeks.

Dixie gently turned Nita to face her. "I understand, Nita. Dr. Brackett says it's common for transplant patients to feel that way. But here's what you need to know. First, the woman who gave you her liver had signed an organ donation card. Have you heard of those?"

Nita shook her head.

"It just means that while she was still living, she decided she wanted to make a difference that would carry on even after she was gone. So she signed a card stating that she was willing to donate her organs. Her family knew about her wishes, so they gave their consent after she was gone. At just the right time, her liver came to you." Dixie smiled as she felt Nita's shoulders continue to relax. "It could well be that her kidneys, her corneas, her pancreas, and her heart have gone to others in need. So you see, her life continues in you and in each of the people she helped. It's all right to be happy, Nita. You only honor her by accepting this gift and living every single day to the fullest."

Nita sucked in a deep breath and then looked at Dixie. "Thank you," she said, a bashful smile tugging at her lips. Dixie noted with satisfaction that her eyes had finally regained their glow.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

At three minutes after seven, Johnny noted that Nurse Spears was glowering at the happy little crowd in NICU. Of course, she didn't dare object because among those gathered were Dr. Brackett, Dixie, and Dr. Early. Billy, Roy and JoAnne, and Nurse Karlstrom, who had stayed after her shift ended, rounded out the group that surrounded Nita and Johnny and the babies.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming!" With one arm, Johnny cradled his tiny son close to his chest. The child's dark eyes gazed up at him. With his free hand, he squeezed Nita's shoulder as he glanced down at her. Their Little Bird slept comfortably in her mommy's arms, oblivious to her admirers. "We are very grateful for everything you've done for us these past couple of weeks — from taking care of Nita to making sure I didn't forget to eat or sleep, to seeing that the babies always had someone to love on them…" His gaze fell on Roy and Jo. "...and to reminding me to take care of myself too. And for all your prayers. Not to mention, Roy taking on all those classes I was supposed to teach. We thank God for each of you." His son stretched and yawned in his arms. "Well, before I bore this little guy to sleep here, I'd better get on with it. It's about time we made some official introductions. Nita, you want to start?"

Nita shook her head, but didn't look up at him. Her eyes were fastened on their daughter. "No, Nashoba. You go ahead."

"A'right, then." Johnny held up his son so everyone could see him. "Y'all might have noticed this little guy's wild hair. Reminds me a bit of what you'd see on a buffalo. So his Choctaw name is Yvnnvsh Ushi… or Young Buffalo." He waited for everyone to stop chuckling before he continued. "But in English…" And now his gaze settled on Roy. "Well, I'm proud to present to you Royal James Gage… named for Roy and for my dad." He stepped over to Roy and put the baby in his arms, his eyes dancing. "By Choctaw tradition, uncles are very important in the raising of children, and if this little guy is anything like his old man, you and Billy have your work cut out for you."* Leaving Roy with his tiny namesake, he went back to stand near Nita. "All right, aiukli, it's your turn."

Nita crooked her finger and beckoned him close so she could whisper in his ear. When she was done, Johnny smiled broadly and nodded. "Yes, definitely. That's perfect."

He stepped back and watched as Nita's eyes scanned their friends and family. "She has been asleep, so I have not had a chance to hear it, but Nashoba says our daughter makes noises that remind him of a little bird, so that will be her Choctaw name — Hushushi. For her English name, we have chosen to honor two very important people in our lives." Her eyes filled with tears, but Johnny knew that they were tears of joy now, unlike when he had overheard her conversation with Dixie before coming to NICU. Her eyes fixed on Dixie as she announced the baby's name. "Her English name is Dixie JoAnne Gage."

Dixie gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth. Dr. Brackett draped an arm around her shoulders and grinned. JoAnne pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. Nita looked up at Johnny, lifted little Dixie Jo slightly, and nodded towards JoAnne. "Of course," Johnny said, and he took his daughter and placed her in JoAnne's arms. "Jo… Dixie… you ladies mean the world to us. Thank you for all your help over the years." He gave Jo a peck on the cheek, then turned to hug Dixie before returning to Nita's side.

For the next few minutes, Johnny just enjoyed the happy commotion as his friends oohed and aahed over the babies and their names. The last couple of weeks had been rough, but he wasn't sure life could get any better than it was right now.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊• 

***Note: I've used a little bit of license here. Traditionally among the Choctaw, the brothers of a boy's mother would take responsibility for training him. I figure that Johnny and Nita would gladly extend this tradition to Roy as well. **

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

**Glossary (Choctaw - English)**

Atek aiukli - my beautiful wife

Okcha - wake up

Chi pisa li! - I see you!

Aiukli - beautiful


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Today I offer you a pleasant little interlude, away from the halls of Rampart Emergency. I'll get back to our other friends in the next chapter, but this one makes me very happy just the way it is. I hope you will all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**Thank you, katbybee and Piscean6724, for all your feedback and encouragement! And to my readers, you are the best! Thank you for sticking with my stories!**

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Dixie leaned back in the passenger seat of Kel's car and closed her eyes. Today was a good day. Nita Gage was out of danger. The Gage twins were doing well. Melissa Sinclair was holding her own. It had been a tough couple of weeks and Dixie was more than ready for a break.

She and Kel had each worked at least 60 hours this week… probably more. By Wednesday, the days had begun to blur together. Last night, after celebrating the new Gage babies and learning their names, Joe Early had pulled her and Kel aside, fixing them with the sternest look he could muster, which wasn't saying much for sweet, mild-mannered Joe. "Mike and I can take care of the Emergency Department for a couple of days," he informed them. "You two have been running yourselves ragged. Tomorrow is Friday. Get out of here, and don't you dare come back till Monday."

Dixie hadn't mentioned that Kel had already told her as much. She expected him to argue that he was fine. The fact that he didn't, she took for a sign of how tired he really was. "C'mon, Dix. We'll let the inmates take over the asylum for a while," he'd said with a chuckle.

They had walked out to the parking lot together, and Kel stopped her before she could get in her car. "Listen, Dix. What do you say I pick you up tomorrow morning and we go down to San Diego for the weekend? My friend Al Keenan has a horse ranch not far from there, and he and his wife have been pestering me to visit. We could ride horses… stroll through Old Town… just relax and enjoy ourselves a bit."

The sudden invitation had taken Dixie by surprise. Since their agreement the previous November, Kel had never pressed for anything more than the occasional lunch or dinner. He must have seen her uncertainty because he sighed and held up his hands as if in surrender.

"We'll just go as friends, Dix. Nothing more, I promise. Al and Bonnie will be there and so will their 15-year-old daughter. And they've got a sprawling ranch with several guest cabins. They rent them out to visitors during the spring and summer, but January isn't exactly peak season for tourists. I'll give you all the space you want."

Dixie's brow furrowed as she thought it over. A weekend away did sound relaxing, and she always enjoyed a visit to San Diego. Finally, she nodded. "All right, I'll go with you."

His broad smile at her acceptance made her go weak in the knees. "Excellent. I'll pick you up about eight and we can have breakfast before we head out."

Feeling suddenly awkward, she had turned abruptly and opened the car door, then slid into the driver's seat. "I'll see you then," she said as she turned the key in the ignition.

"See you then!" Kel closed her door for her, then headed for his car, which was parked in the next aisle.

And now, here they were, driving south on the Pacific Coast Highway. Dixie's small suitcase and Kel's duffel bag sat side by side in the back seat of his Mercury Monarch. They had embarked on a weekend trip together for the first time since breaking off their relationship more than a decade ago, and it felt good!

The PCH was the scenic route, for sure, and would probably double the time they spent on the road, but that didn't matter. They had no reason to hurry. Kel had told the Keenans not to expect them until after dinnertime.

As they approached the turnoff for Monarch Beach, Kel said, "All right, Dix, close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

She protested, but he insisted, and she finally gave in and did as he asked. A moment later, she felt the car slow as he exited the highway. He made several turns after that. At first Dixie tried to keep track. After the first couple of turns, she thought they might be heading roughly east, but she wasn't sure. About the time she felt most tempted to open her eyes and get her bearings, he said, "No peeking!"

_How the hell does he know? _She feigned innocence. "Who, me?!"

"Yes, you." He chuckled. "You're forgetting how well I know you, Dix."

She wasn't sure whether to laugh along with him or to yell at him. She settled for a frustrated sniff. "Well, how about a hint then? The suspense is killing me!"

He was quiet for a moment, then said, "William." She could practically hear that bushy eyebrow arching upward.

"William? What kind of a hint is that?" Her mind went back over all the Williams she could remember from her years of working with Kel — a five-year-old boy who stuffed frozen peas up his nose; a sweet old man who tripped over uneven pavement and broke his hip; a Vietnam vet they had seen repeatedly over the years; and she could think of a couple of paramedics named William who had come through training.

"It's the only clue you're going to get. Now just settle back and wait ten minutes and all your questions will be answered."

"Fine," she huffed. She was more amused and intrigued than annoyed, but she wasn't willing to let him know that. Part of her wanted to drag it out of him, just for the sake of triumph. But the other part? Well, she loved how happy he sounded, and she didn't have the heart to take that away from him. Oh, she didn't doubt that she could cajole him into telling her everything, but that would likely take more than ten minutes anyway. Better just to do as he said and look forward to the surprise. She leaned her seat back and pretended to doze.

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

_Just when a fella thinks he's got you figured, Dix, you go and throw him for a loop. I did not expect you to let me get away with this. _Kel pulled up to a stop light and glanced sidelong at his traveling companion. He wondered if she had already figured out where they were going. He didn't think she had been there before, but anything was possible. With that in mind, he had purposely driven around in circles for a bit after getting off the highway, just to throw her off. "You sure are pretty when you're mad," he observed, fully aware that she was wide awake and not as irritated as she pretended to be.

She opened one eye wide and glared at him for a second before snapping it shut again. "I'm pretty darn terrifying when I'm mad and don't you forget it, Kelly Brackett," she answered.

"I wouldn't dare," he teased. The light turned green and he took a left. After about a block, he hung a right and turned immediately into a small parking lot, easing his car into a space between a yellow school bus and a green Chrysler K-Car. "All you have to do is give me one of your looks and I'll do anything you ask, even perform heart surgery on a baby goat."

She laughed, then stopped suddenly, opened her eyes and stared at him. "William. The goat's name was William. What in heaven's name have you got planned, Kel?" She twisted in her seat and looked around. "Cabot Family Farm? What is this place?"

"Remember when I volunteered with that horse and pony rescue some years ago? That was right about the time this little place opened. They wanted to adopt some ponies that would be good with children, so I helped them choose a few and then I transported them down here. I made friends with the family that runs the place and I drive down every so often to help with their stock. You know, when I was a kid, for a while I lived and breathed the idea of growing up to be a cowboy. My dad let me take riding lessons, figuring I would outgrow it one day and go into law like he did. Well, as you know, I never went into law." Kel shrugged up a shoulder. "Medicine was my calling, but I never quite outgrew wanting to be a cowboy, either."

Dixie regarded him for a moment, her head tilted to one side, her mouth quirked up in a bemused smile. "I'm trying to picture you with a cowboy hat and twirling a lasso." Her eyes danced. "It's not that hard, actually."

Kel opened his door and stepped out. Before he could get around to her door, she was already standing beside the car. He locked the vehicle, then draped an arm over her shoulders. "Well, in addition to horses and a number of other animals, this farm has goats. I remembered how taken you were with little William and I thought you might like to come here. It's a great family place — I think it's fun to watch all the little kids running around." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he realized suddenly what he had said. "No pun intended."

Together, they walked through the parking lot. As they approached the ticket booth, Kel waved to the owner, Jim Cabot, who wore a denim jacket and proudly sported his usual "Korean Vet" ball cap. "Hello, Jim! Good to see you! I'd like you to meet —"

"Dixie McCall." Jim's grin spread from ear to ear and he emerged from the booth holding out both hands to Dixie. "Doc here talks about his Dixie all the time, but I never made the connection till now."

Dixie just stood there as if she couldn't believe her eyes. "Jimmy Cabot?!"

Confused, Kel looked from Dixie to Jim and back to Dixie. "You… know each other?"

Jim's face reddened and he pulled off his cap and wiped his forehead with a grimy handkerchief.

Dixie tilted her head. "Should I tell him or will you, Jimmy?"

"Hell, woman… I'll do it," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact as he rubbed at the back of his hand. "It was back in Korea. Banana spider got tangled up in my bedding somehow and I guess I rolled over on it. Blamed thing bit me. I barely felt it — hurt less than a bee sting — and I didn't say anything. Didn't want the guys teasing me over it, y' know, when I should've checked my bedding before getting in. Well, turns out I was allergic, and on top of that, it got infected. Hand swoll up somethin' awful. And that's how I ended up at Dixie's MASH unit."

"Almost lost that hand," Dixie added.

Kell winced in sympathy.

Jim nodded. "Yeah, and I never did live it down with my buddies. But it was worth it to spend a week under Nurse Dixie's care." He grinned and winked at Dixie. Kel fought back a surge of annoyance and edged closer to her side as Jim continued. "I think the only men in the ward who didn't have a crush on you were the unconscious ones." Dixie smiled and blushed.

Conscious of the line forming behind them, Kel tugged his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it. "We'd better talk later."

Before he could fish out a ten-dollar bill, Jim scowled and wagged a finger in his face. "Forget it, Doc. I'm not takin' your money. You and Dixie are welcome anytime, no charge. After my daughter gets here to take over the register, I'll treat you to lunch at the farm cafe."

Kel hesitated, then folded up his wallet and shoved it back in his pocket. "Thanks, Jim." He nodded toward the entrance. "C'mon, Dix."

They spent the next hour or so wandering around the small petting zoo. As Kel had hoped, Dixie thoroughly enjoyed herself. Kel liked all the animals, but he got the most pleasure out of watching Dixie's face light up when she was holding a baby goat or stroking a guinea pig or just watching the little children on the pony rides. A tinge of regret pricked his heart at the thought that if only he had gotten his act together and made a commitment back when he first realized what he felt for Dixie, the two of them might have had several kids of their own by now. _She would've made a great mom, _he mused, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

After lingering over burgers and fries and pleasant conversation with Jim and his wife Lucinda, it was time to get back on the road. They would drive the rest of the way to San Diego and spend the afternoon there, then have dinner before heading east and a bit north to Julian, where Kel's friends owned a 200-acre spread. Kel was still trying to decide whether to take Dixie to a fancy restaurant or somewhere a bit… well… homier. He had reservations at the famous Cafe La Maze, but just recently, he'd overheard Dixie recommending a restaurant called Filippi's to another nurse. _Nothing fancy, but the lasagna's incredible, _she'd insisted. _You've got to try it. _Maybe he should surprise her with dinner there. And maybe… well, maybe he could get up the courage to have a talk with her that he'd been putting off way too long.

That afternoon, they meandered through the historic park in Old Town before driving over to Seaport Village to celebrate the unseasonably warm January day with ice cream cones on the Embarcadero. Kel felt the stress of the last couple of weeks melting away. He couldn't get his mind off of Taffy's last letter, though. _What are you waiting for, _the chaplain had asked, following it up with, _you are definitely going to have to make the first move. _"She'll never go for it," he mumbled, realizing only after Dixie gave him a quizzical look that he had spoken the words aloud.

"Go for what?" she asked, one eyebrow shooting upward.

Kel feigned innocence. "Huh?"

"You said 'She'll never go for it.' What did you mean?"

Kel decided distraction was in order, so he turned toward Dixie and rubbed a napkin across her cheek. "You, uh… had some ice cream there."

Dixie's eyes flashed with indignation as she pushed his hand away. "I've said it before, Kel, you're a terrible liar."

Kel scrambled to decide how to respond. He couldn't mention his correspondence with Taffy. "I'm sorry, Dix. I… was just thinking about some advice Lyddie gave me." That was true enough. In her last letter, his good friend Lydia Schwartz had told him pretty much the same thing Taffy had, though she'd been more bold in her wording. _Step it up, Little Brother! Remember what I told you when you visited — you need a wife! And the sooner the better because tomorrow isn't guaranteed._ He swallowed hard at the thought of Lyddie. She knew what she was talking about. She'd been battling Hodgkin Lymphoma for almost a year now and was in remission, but every day brought the possibility of recurrence.

"Advice I wouldn't go for?" Dixie pressed.

"Oh... yeah." Kel managed a weak nod. Clearly, Dix wasn't about to let this go. "Dix, I meant it when I said we'd just come down here as friends. I've been very careful about keeping my promise to you that I wouldn't push… that I would wait until you were ready."

"I know. And I appreciate it, Kel."

He looked into her eyes, hopeful to find some encouragement there to go on, to lay his feelings out and say what was on his mind. He wasn't sure he saw that, but she also didn't look angry and she seemed to be waiting for him to say something more. "It's hard, Dix. Because I'm ready. I want more. Lyddie was right…"

"Her advice?"

"Yes. She said I need a wife and the sooner the better." Dixie's eyebrow shot up again and she stiffened slightly, but she didn't pull away, didn't narrow her eyes or press her lips together in annoyance. She just kept her steady gaze locked with his, so Kel continued. "But there's only one woman I would ever consider asking, Dixie. And I keep thinking maybe I see signs that you're ready, but you haven't said the word."

And there it was… her gaze flicked downward. As her stiffness melted away, she seemed to deflate and he thought it was all over, but then she looked back up at him and he could see tears forming in her eyes. "I've wanted to, Kel. You don't know how much I've wanted it. But then I think of Adam and Taffy and… and it scares the hell out of me… If I say the word, what will happen to you?"

Kel cupped her cheek in his hand and bent to brush his lips against hers. She gasped slightly but then joined in the kiss, pulling away only when he lowered his hand and sat up straight again. Neither one spoke for a long moment. At last, Kel broke the silence. "I can't promise that nothing will happen to me, Dix. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. But I can tell you that what happened to Adam and to Taffy had nothing to do with you. The war… Taffy's illness… all that would have happened even if you hadn't been a part of their lives." He lightly massaged her back and dropped another kiss on the top of her head. "But at least loving you brought some joy to their lives. Now here I am loving you too, and I'm too old for the draft and young enough to be in damn good health. I think the odds are in our favor, especially if we move quickly."

Her soft chuckle assured him that he had succeeded in lightening the mood a bit. "How quickly are you thinking, Kel?"

He grinned. "Well, we've got the whole weekend free. How does tomorrow sound?" Dixie suddenly frowned up at him. "What's wrong now, Dix?"

She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated huff. "We may have the weekend free, but you still haven't asked the relevant question."

He could feel his cheek twitching as he worked to suppress a grin. "Hell, woman," he said in a fair imitation of Jim Cabot, "I'm still waiting for you to give the word."

A brisk nod, then, "Consider it given."

In one smooth motion, Kel went from sitting beside her on the bench to kneeling on the boardwalk in front of her. He wrapped his hands around hers and gazed earnestly into her eyes. He had imagined this moment many times over the last several months, but now that it was here he couldn't remember any of the flowery speeches he had practiced in preparation for it. Sucking in a deep breath, he decided to stick with simplicity. "Dixie McCall, will you marry me?"

•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•◊•

"Dixie McCall, will you marry me?"

Dixie's jaw dropped and she sat there, staring at Kel, shocked speechless for several seconds. Suddenly she was acutely aware of the ocean lapping up against the breakwater, a motorboat zooming past, the salty tang of the breeze, the crowd of onlookers holding their breath and waiting to see how she would answer. She had never imagined this weekend jaunt bringing them to this point, and yet here they were. Kel clearly hadn't planned his proposal. He hadn't brought her down here with ulterior motives — he didn't even have a ring to offer. But she knew that the question had been hanging in the air, unspoken, for months now, just waiting for her to give him permission to voice it. And she knew without any doubt the answer she would give. "Kel, I —" Her voice cracked with emotion and she blinked back tears of joy. "Yes, I'll marry you. Of course, I'll marry you!"

As the spectators cheered and hollered, Kel stood and pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Dixie didn't care who was watching as he lowered his mouth once more to hers. Letting go of the grief and hurt of the past, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself fully to returning his kiss.


End file.
